


Who Knew

by sincewewereeighteen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 78 productions, Angst, Blowjobs, Bottom Harry, Break Up, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Lots of Crying, Love, M/M, OT5, Panic Attacks, Post-Break Up, Promise, Smut, Top Louis, between me and harry who's in front and who's behind?, but not really, i think we kinda share that really (they do), im sorry i cant write a fanfic without zayn being louis' bro, larry - Freeform, larry is so damn real i wanna cry, larry smut, larry stylinson - Freeform, lots of love too, my friend asked me to add tags but im terrible at it im so so sorry, post baby-gate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-14 11:10:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 130,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4562397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincewewereeighteen/pseuds/sincewewereeighteen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis remembers clearly the night everything fell apart. </p>
<p>There are moments in life you just can't forget. For him, there are some that just will never leave his mind: singing Torn, his first Award Ceremony, What Makes You Beautiful on the radio for the first time, bus 1 with Zayn, recording Fireproof with Liam and the sound of Harry's voice when he told  Louis that he loved him, but they were done.</p>
<p>[OR: the one in which my mind goes to a really dark place thanks to this ridiculous reality we're living right now and Louis cheats on Harry and gets a girl pregnant]</p>
<p>[<a href="https://ficbook.net/readfic/4246948">russian version</a>]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clpaige](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clpaige/gifts), [larryhatesana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/larryhatesana/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, there! Welcome to this crazy, crazy universe.

__

_“If someone said three years from now you’d be long gone, I’d stand up and punch them out, cause they’re all wrong… That last kiss, I’ll cherish until we meet again. And time makes it harder, but I keep your memory.”_

 

 

 

Louis remembers clearly the night everything fell apart.

There are moments in life you just can't forget. For him, there are some that just will never leave his mind: singing Torn, his first Award Ceremony, What Makes You Beautiful on the radio for the first time, bus 1 with Zayn, recording Fireproof with Liam and the look on Harry's face when he told Louis that he loved him, but they were done.

Looking back, he should have been more careful. He knew the risk he was taking with his heart before even dreaming about a career when he said "hi" to that boy many, many years ago in a bathroom. Louis should have known a lot of things, yes, and the most important of them being: it didn't matter how much they loved each other, they were doomed from the start. And he would be the one to fuck everything up... As always.

 

He was just getting out of the shower when he got the call. Summer was approaching and Barcelona was so damn hot, he just wanted to stay inside the hotel with the air conditioner all day. Calvin had other plans, though, and dragged the rest of the group to the beach. That was why he was alone. And thank God.

Louis finished toweling himself to pick up the phone without even checking the caller ID. It was probably Harry anyway – Louis was excited to tell him about the new bracelet he had gotten for him the day before.

“Hello”, he said cheerfully in a funny voice.

“Louis?” It was a girl’s voice; a voice he didn’t recognize.

“Yeah?”

“It’s Briana.” And, ok, the name rang a bell. He was still having trouble remembering the face. “I’m friends with Ollie; we went out a couple of times…?”

“Yeah…?” He repeated ‘cause he wasn’t sure of what to say or what the hell she wanted.

“I think we need to talk.”

“You and Ollie?” _So why are you calling me?_ He wanted to ask.

“No. Me and you.” Oh. “Look, I really didn’t want to do this over the phone, but… I wasn’t sure I’d see you again unless I _told this over the phone_ , so…”

She sounded extremely nervous and Louis thought that was weird, but he let her continue, making his way to the bed and sitting there, planning to take a long nap after the call.

“What- what do you remember? From, you know, the times we went out?” She asked hesitantly.

He tried to think, but not much came to his mind.

“Hm… Lots of booze, lots of weed, loots of crappy articles afterwards about me fucking five girls into the sunset…” He laughed.

“You didn’t fuck five girls into the sunset”, she affirmed seriously.

“I know, love.”

“You did fuck me, though. Twice. Well, and a half. Your body guard stopped us the third time.”

And, ok. She had to be joking. There were so many wrong things in that sentence. She didn’t laugh, though, and suddenly Louis couldn’t breathe properly.

“What?” He managed to choke that out, because… _How_?

“I didn’t expect you to remember, the second time you didn’t remember the first… But I thought…” He could hear her laugh, but she didn’t sound happy, excited or even ironic. Just nervous. He could relate. “Oh, God, I wish you would. I hoped you would.”

Was she pranking him? Was Ollie hidden somewhere in the room with a camera filming him?

Unfortunately, no.

“What?” He asked again. It seemed like the only word he knew at the moment because he wasn’t _understanding_. It came out as a whisper.

“Believe it or not… Well, you have to. You were the last person I slept with.”

“And?”

“And I’m pregnant.”

Louis had read some books in his life and he’d read many times about how out of the blue one’s life could change and the world would stop and the air wouldn’t be enough. He’d never thought he’d get to experience this, and at that moment, everything happened at once; he was on the verge of a panic attack.

“Louis, are you there?” She asked. He opened his mouth, but couldn’t say anything. Things were spinning. He couldn’t _breathe._ “Look, I’ve already scheduled a DNA test, so don’t think I want something from you… I don’t need your money and I certainly don’t want your fame… Have your lawyers contact me or whatever… And you’ll have to come to LA for the test, of course. I’m assuming you want it. If not, you can forget I ever called… I just… Well, you’re the father. It wouldn’t be fair not to tell you.”

She kept talking and he was barely processing it. He had put her on speaker and now had his head cradled on his hands and everything was still spinning. He still couldn’t get enough air through his lungs.

“Louis?”

He had cheated on Harry. With a girl. Apparently, he had slept with a girl more than once, and he couldn’t even remember. He was twenty three and a father to be. He also had cheated on Harry. Because of course he’d find a way to ruin the best thing in his life.

“Fuck, Louis, say something.” She sounded frustrated.

He tried to even his breaths. He failed. But he needed to speak.

“I don’t know what to say”, he confessed. “I don’t--  I don’t mean to be an ass, I swear, I just… I can barely remember your face” _lie_ , he didn’t remember it at all, “let alone sleeping with you.” He said. “To be honest, I’m still hoping there’s a hidden camera here.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No- I- I’m. I’m sorry.” So, so sorry. But not for not remembering her. “Have you… Have you thought about an abortion?”

God, he never – NOT EVER – imagined himself in that position, saying such words. Louis loved kids. So fucking much. He wanted at least three of them. In a big house in London. Maybe LA. He just wanted them a few years from now. With Harry. Harry. He had cheated on Harry. Fuck, fuck, FUCK.

“I’m not having an abortion, Louis. I didn’t ask for this child any more than you did, but I sure as hell ain’t killing it.”

“No, of course not. I-”, damn it. “I don’t even know why  I said that.”

“Like I said… You don’t have to have any part in it, Louis. I really don’t need anything from you. I like to party, yeah, but I’m a decent person and I come from an okay family. This child will be taken care of with or without you.”

            This child. _His_ child. God.

            Louis didn’t doubt she was a decent person. He wasn’t even angry with her and why would he? It was his fault just as much. Rich as fuck and he didn’t bother to buy a condom. What in hell?

            Truth was Louis hadn’t worn a condom since he was 19. The only person he had ever fucked in his life was Harry – and they only used it for a month or so. If it weren’t so tragic, he’d be laughing. He had slept with a _girl_. How drunk was he?  How high?

            And Alberto knew…? Why had he never said anything? What a messed up situation.

            She was giving him a way out, but he couldn’t take it – he knew it. He couldn’t risk this leaking in the worst possible way, not now, not 20 years from now when the kid started wondering who the hell was the idiot who left them… He couldn’t become his own biological father he hated so much. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

            “How far long are you?”

            “I’m not sure… I have a doctor’s appointment next week.”

            “Contact me when you know, please”, he asked as softly as he could. “I can’t not be a part of this child’s life. I’m a decent person too.” And he didn’t know who he was trying to convince, her or himself.

            “Ok. And… The DNA test? You’ll want one, right?”

            “Yeah, I… I’ll talk to my lawyers, have them contact you.”

            “Ok.” She agreed. “Th-thank you.” She said like she was holding back tears. Maybe she was. He wasn’t that insensitive towards the girl. He knew it couldn’t be easy on her either. Her life was about to be turned upside down.

            “I… I need to go. Process everything, I guess.”

            “Sure, sure. I’ll reach you if I have any news.”

            “Thanks. And. Thanks for telling me.”

            “Of course.”

            They said their goodbyes and hung up the phone. Louis had a list of people he wanted and needed to talk to and one (Harry) he’d avoid at all costs until he knew how to deal with this. Suddenly he felt twenty years older and in need of a lot of alcohol.

 

            That was how Stan found him in the evening: lying on the bed with a bottle of whisky. Before he could get a word out, Louis cried for hours, like he could dry himself. It didn’t help at all. Stan held him through it not asking any questions and when Louis calmed down, his best friend put him under the shower again. Only then Louis realized he hadn’t even put on clothes, he still had the towel from his previous shower around his waist. Not that he could care about anything apart from the fact that he was about to lose the love of his life over a mistake… That would come in the shape of a baby, who would need him, and his love, and his care and would have no fault whatsoever.

 

            Up until then, Louis thought that was the day his world collapsed. He knew he had already lost Harry even though Harry didn’t know it yet. But nothing had prepared him for the night it actually happened, the night they first cracked for real.

            Now he knows he should’ve told him from the beginning, but back then, stupidly so, he figured he’d have time later. Later never came for him – for neither of them. For almost two months, the only people who knew about it were Stan, his lawyers and Zayn, as shocking as it may seem.

            Zayn had called drunk as hell and said “I’m gonna break up with Perrie”. And Louis, who wasn’t any better, blurted out: “I’m gonna be a father”. Zayn was at his door in London in fifteen minutes. All the anger from him leaving the band vanished – he had a safe place in his brother slash friend slash guardian angel. And because of his kind, not judgmental eyes, Louis started to feel like he could breathe again.

 

            When the first newspaper broke the story, Harry, of all the damn people in the world, was the one to show it to him, laughing loudly while shoving the iPad to his face. They were alone in the green room, which was a miracle most of the time, because it was always crowded with staff coming and going. At that moment specifically, it felt like a curse.

            “ _ONE CONCEPTION, OH MY GOD!”_ Harry said, flopping down by Louis’ side, bursting into laughter again. “You should see the quantity of manips out there with me being pregnant… Where did they get that from?” He asked finally, apparently going through his twitter feed to show him the edited photos. Louis couldn’t move.

            He was staring at the wall in front of him avoiding Harry’s gaze at all costs, because he knew that it would only take a glance for everything to be _finished_. And everything, he didn’t know at the time (or he didn’t want to know at the time), meant _everything_.

            “Lou?” Harry asked again trying to get a reaction out of him.

            “I’m… I’m sorry”, his face was already heating up.

            “Is this another stunt? You agreed to this? Fuck, Louis, we said we wouldn’t do that anymore.” _If only it were this simple_ , Louis thought.

            “I’m sorry”, he repeated.

            Harry rubbed his hand on his lower back and rested the other one on his knee, assuring him he was kinda mad, but he was there. Oh, Louis would miss his hands. And his soothing presence. And him.

            “Why didn’t you tell me before? I mean… A baby is a new low for them.” He sounded upset. Louis wanted to die.

            “H…” He whispered. God, he had forgotten how to use words. Well, he wished he had anyway. He wished he didn’t exist. “’S not a stunt.”

            “What?” Confusion flashed through his face the exact moment Louis chose to look into his emerald eyes. Thinking now, he should’ve tried to memorize the love Harry’s eyes held for him.

            “’S not a stunt. I’m sorry. I’m so so _so_ sorry. I love you so much. You have no idea.” He said, turning his entire body to him.

            “Louis.” Now it sounded like a warning. Or a request. He was begging him not to tell what he already feared. Louis hated knowing Harry so much. He hated even more how _Harry knew him_.

            “I don’t even remember how it happened”, he confessed, weakly. Full of shame. “I love you.”

            “What?” Now Harry’s eyes showed confusion… And hurt. He took his hands off of Louis like he was contagiously ill. “H-how?” He choked out.

            “I don’t know. Alcohol, I suppose. Weed too.”

Till today Louis doesn’t doubt that maybe he’d taken something stronger… But nobody that was there seems to recall anything, or have the will to tell him anyway. Not even Alberto, who only said “you told me not to mention that, ever”. Oh well.

            “The usual Tomlinson package.” Harry said coldly and laughed bitterly. Louis didn’t dare to look into his eyes then. He wasn’t ready to see his boy fade. “God…” He got up from the couch and started pacing around the room. “Is it stupid that I’m in shock or, like, praying to wake up? It probably is. I’m _so_ stupid.”

            “No. You’re not”, Louis answered. “H, please”, he asked, getting up to his feet.

            “Please _what_ , Louis? When were you going to tell me? During a shower blow job or with our mothers picking flower arrangements for our wedding? Maybe when the baby was born? Would you ask me to be the godfather then?”

He walked frenetically around the small table in front of them, squeezing a bottle of water so hard in his hand that Louis thought it would explode at any minute.

“No. NO.” He reaffirmed. “I just didn’t know…”

“YOU CHEATED ON ME, YOU PRICK”, Harry yelled. And Harry _never_ yelled unless they were having really good kinky sex. “WITH A GIRL”, he completed.

“Haz, I don’t- I don’t even remember it. Her. Anything.”

“And you think that makes this” he waved his hands between them “any better? Who the fuck is she?”

“A friend of Ollie’s, I…”

“Of course she is”, he cut Louis. “D’you know James once asked me if I got bothered that you went out so much with those friends of yours? D’you wanna know what I told him?” Harry didn’t give him a chance to reply.

“I told him that yeah, I didn’t like the man I love going out every other night without me, but I didn’t want to suffocate him since we couldn’t be out together and he loved to party, and he loved his friends…”

Harry laughed, throwing his head back. There was no humor on his tone. “If only I’d known you were shagging girls now my concern might’ve been different.”

            “One girl, Harry. It was a mistake.”

            “You think so?” He said, finally dropping the water to the ground. Louis was right: it exploded. “A BABY. FUCK.”

            “I love you.”

            “Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

            At this moment, Niall, Liam and Louise decided to enter the room, laughing lightly at something Niall had just said. Only then Louis realized he was crying; his face was wet and his head was hurting a bit. He could make his friends’ figures with his peripheral vision, but his eyes never left Harry.

            Everyone went silent.

            “What happened?” Niall was the one to ask. Louis sat on the couch again, cradling his head on his hands.

            “Tommo, you ok?” Liam asked eyeing him worriedly.

            “Ha, he’s peachy, aren’t you love?” Harry snorted. Louis didn’t want to look up again but made himself look at Liam with bloodshot eyes.

            “What happened?” Niall asked again and Louis handed him their- Harry’s iPad. There was no point in hiding anything anymore. He was already fucked. And not in the good way.

            “Fucking hell, another stunt?” Somehow Louis was thankful that was the first thing he thought. “Or are you pregnant, H? I know Tommo’s amazing in bed if your noises are anything to go by, but I wasn’t aware he could perform miracles…” Niall laughed, Liam too, although kinda nervous.

            Lou studied Harry’s face and suddenly had a protective arm around his waist.

            “’S not a stunt, is it?” She asked Harry, but staring at Louis.

            “I…” Harry started, but his voice was raspy and he almost choked on air. “I gotta go”, he said and hurried out of the room.

            “What have you done, Louis?” Lou asked, still staring at him while Louis couldn’t take his eyes away from the door. Harry left him many times through that year and the next, and that was only the first. The last time hurt the most, but that didn’t mean any of the others didn’t haunt his memory every other night. Or day. Or always, really.

            Liam sat by his side and started reading the piece. Louis started crying again. Niall looked at him like he couldn’t believe he had actually done that. If looks could kill, he was sure he’d be dead by now, because of Louise’s eyes.

            Louis never had a doubt that if Harry and he broke up, their friends would split. It was pretty clear in the first day who would “get” who. Liam gave him a talk, but stayed there. It was never a mystery that Niall and Lou would side with Harry. Fuck, Louis was sided with Harry.

            His tears kept falling and nobody dared to say a word. He was sobbing when Lux entered the room running with Lottie yelling behind her.

            “Mommy, uncle Harry is crying!” She said so, so worried, hugging Lou’s leg.

            “Where is he, sweetie?” Lou asked, picking her up. Louis lowered his head. Niall still seemed to be taking the entire situation in. Liam had finished reading and was, apparently, checking the internet for reactions.

            Online, everything was just a big joke.

            “He was heading towards the cars, asking Jen to book him a flight, I-”, Lottie started explaining. “Lou, what happened?” She asked her brother.

            “Uncle Louis is crying too”, Lux stated seeming really, really bothered. Her mouth opening for a “oh” at the end of the sentence.

            “He’s just really upset, love, maybe we should leave him alone”, her mother soothed her.

            “Can I kiss him better?” Louis sobbed harder, hiding his face on Liam’s back. Lou seemed to hesitate for only a second before putting Lux on the floor.

            She walked towards him and hugged him tight. Louis had never felt so vulnerable up until that moment.

            “Are you sick, uncle Louis?”

            “No, baby, I’m just being silly”, he said, chin rested on her tiny shoulder. She ran her fingers through his hair.

            “Love you”, she said, kissing his cheek and looking at him. “Do you wanna play right now?” She asked. Louis used to tell her that playing with her always made him feel better.

            “I don’t think it’s a good time, baby. Maybe we should check on uncle Harry too?” Lou asked and Lux seemed to be in a crossroad. She was three and a half years old, and she had to choose between two boys she loved dearly.

            Niall seemed to be the one who’d end her misery.

            “Hey, Lux, why don’t you come play football with me and the guys? They’re outside. We can have a big ice cream after.”

            “Mom?”

            “Go.” Lou smiled.

            “Lou?” She asked, putting her small hand on his left arm.

            “Go kick Niall’s butt, my little star”, he tried to smile and she kissed his nose. He only waited for her to leave the room to collapse again. Liam held him so, so strong, like he just _knew_ Louis would break if he let him go at that moment. That was how he felt, anyway, broken… Into tiny little pieces. Liam was physically holding him together. He had needed it then, otherwise he would have dissolved.

 

            His phone rings again and Louis is brought back to the present. The TV’s on but he’s not really sure of what he’s supposed to be watching. Nowadays is common for him to get like this, so lost in old memories – good and bad ones… Usually bad – that he blanks out for a few minutes. Sometimes for hours.

            He checks the screen and the first thing he sees is that it still is midday. And he’s already thinking about Harry. It’s gonna be a long day, he figures. The days are always longer when he starts thinking about Harry before lunch.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you have a wonderful weekend :D  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ifmelcouldfly/with_replies) | [tumblr](http://downgoesanotherhero.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

When he checks his phone again at night, after ignoring his sisters and Stan, he has three new missed calls: one from the studio, one from Briana, one from Zayn. Three years ago his first instinct would be to return the work call first, but he has other priorities now. He calls Briana.

            “Hey”, she answers cheerfully. “We’re at the airport, we’ll arrive tomorrow morning.”

            “Kay, I’ll pick you guys up, I have the week off”, he says. “How long are you staying?”

            “A few hours, I’m just taking her, gotta get back to work.”

            “I’m sorry I couldn’t go pick her up.”

            “It’s fine, Lou. She’s pretty excited, she misses papa”, she says. The background noise is getting louder and Louis presses the phone tighter to his ear. “Say hi to papa, love. _Pappaaaaaa, miss you_ ”, a little voice comes on the speaker.

            “Hello, beautiful. Miss you lots and lots. See you tomorrow yeah?” Louis never imagined his voice could get this soft. And he’s had a lot of babies around him, from Lottie to Doris and Ernest. He’s used his fair share of soft voices.

            “One sleep?”

            “One sleep”, he says, smiling at nowhere. He also didn’t know how much love he’d have for that small human.

            “O-taay, pappaaaa, lobe you.”

            “Love you too.”

            “Hi, Lou, we’re boarding now.”

            “Okay, see you tomorrow.”

            He hangs up the phone and walks to the kitchen to get some beer. It’s a Tuesday night and he’s alone at home, his last alone day in a week – and he’s really happy for that.

 

            Louis has life post-Harry figured out now. He wakes up at eight every day – even though he still loathes the early hours – and drives to work with tea on a thermos right by his side. Music plays softly and randomly on the radio and he arrives at the studio usually when the commercials start; when there’s traffic, he listens to the morning news or messages on his phone. It’s a good routine.

            He arrives at work around ten and never knows when he’s leaving.

Sometimes he leaves at four and goes to the gym with Liam (who bought a house with Sophia a few blocks from Louis) and eats at his place afterwards, talking nonsense just to forget some music arrangements that wouldn’t work out earlier.

Sometimes he leaves after lunch and drives all the way to Doncaster to catch a game or just to practice with the team. Football helps him forget stuff when he has an important meeting the next day and can’t drink his sleep off.

            When Niall’s in town, they catch a pint or two at a pub nearby… But it was never the same between them. Not after everything. Zayn’s always busy, and always by his side – once One Direction ended and Louis took the full lead on 78 Productions, it only took three months for him to sign his former bandmate and current best friend. They went through a rough patch. They got over it.

            When it’s really, really hard, Louis calls Stella on skype.

She’s always so smiley that his heart melts.

The day she was born wasn’t the happiest day of his life. No. The happiest day of his life was when he had just landed at the JFK airport and Briana was there with her to pick him up, she must’ve been nine months then. She smiled and as he was caressing her hair and kissing her forehead, she’d said “papa” for the first time. Louis’ life is pretty dark most of the time, but she is light.

His fans used to say he was their sun, but, well, she is his.

            On the worst days, though, Louis sleeps in the studio among sheets of lyrics and unfinished melodies playing in the background. On those days, he allows himself to feel sorry for himself where no one can see, and in the next morning he goes home before sunrise, showers and starts life all over again.

            He is ok. He’s learned to get back on his feet thanks to his amazing family and closest friends. It’s been a while since he’s seen some of them. Well, some of them aren’t even close anymore – not now that he doesn’t fly on private jets around the world every other week.

 

It was hard at first, when they finished the tour and he came back to London. His and Harry’s house was no longer _theirs_ , it was _his_ , and the fact that Harry would never sleep on the same bed as Louis haunted him for months. There’s a body-shaped-Louis on the couch, because that’s where he used to sleep in the beginning. He was never able to sell the house, but he’s made a few changes since then.

            For example, now he has two rooms equipped with kids’ stuff. Stella has a room right next to his (where she’s never slept in, because he can never let her go from his own room) and there’s this huge kids’ play room where it used to be a music studio. Since the band split, Louis focused on the record label and only kept a black piano in the living room… He rarely plays it anymore and when he does, it’s usually Something Great that’s stuck in his mind.

            He empties the bottle of beer and throws it in the bin, making his way upstairs. The day was long, as he expected. Too many emotions in a few hours. He needed to sleep.

 

-

 

            “And she’s on her Disney phase… No more cartoons, only classic Disney movies.” Briana tells him over coffee at the airport.

            “Is that so, bunny?” Louis asks swinging her on his lap doing his best not to squeeze her on his arms – it’s a constant struggle.

            “’Ma pwincess papa” she tells him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

            “You are, indeed. And how’s princess going?”

            “HAPPEEEEEH”, she yells calling attention to the people around them. Not that they weren’t staring already.

Louis still turns eyes wherever he goes. His fame hasn’t faded like he expected it to. Maybe because he’s constantly attending award ceremonies with Zayn, maybe because he’s still receiving proposals from The X Factor, maybe because people still wanted him to go back on stage with the other lads.

“Me too, so, so happy”, he tells her, kissing her cheek. “You okay? How’s everything at work? Is New York treating you well?” He asks Briana as soon as she finishes her scone.

“I’m good, yeah, they’ll give me a promotion soon, I suppose. Thanks for putting on a good word, by the way”, she says with a smile on her face. He’s lost count of how many times she’s thanked him. They’re friends, the both of them. She really isn’t interested in him and Louis really isn’t interested in… Well, women. Or people, in general.

“Good to hear. Is she really okay at the daycare?”

“Yes, really good. You like daycare, don’t you, baby?” She asks, grabbing her hand and laying a soft kiss there.

“Yes, mama, lots of people nice, lots of pwincess like I”, Stella answers proudly, bouncing on Louis’ left leg.

“They just don’t work on grammar, apparently”, she jokes and smiles at Louis.

“I’m twenty six and my grammar still sucks. She’s three, she’ll turn out better than the both of us”, he assures Briana, but he knows she knows it. They have a brilliant child. Brilliant and beautiful, so, so beautiful.

Stella turned out blonde, like her mom, but has Louis’ blue eyes – it’s a strong gene, those blue eyes.

They talk for half an hour before Louis decides it’s time to go. Since it’s a Friday and he’s not going to work, he’s driving with Stella do Doncaster to spend the day with Jay and the kids, maybe pick them up from school. He hopes the traffic helps.

“Is she still okay with car rides?”

“Yeah, just play some Snoop Dog if she starts crying.”

“What?” He asks incredulous.

“It’s her new thing, now. She definitely is your daughter.”

“Don’t I know”, he smiles proudly. “Let’s go, honey?” He turns to her on the ground, she’s fascinated with so many people coming and going.

“Where we going?”

“To granny’s… Is that okay with you?”

“See Phoebs and Zy?” Phoebe and Daisy. He nods. “And Fizfizfiz?” He nods again and grins down at her. “Yessss.” She jumps rapidly by his side. “I say bye bye to mom now?”

“Yes, sweetie.”

“Otay”, she sighs and turns to her mother, stretching her arms so she can pick her up. “See you when mama?”

“In a week, baby. Seven sleeps, ok?” That’s how they taught her to count the days. She understands that sometimes she stays with only one of them.

“I get seven sleeps with papa?” She asks excitedly.

“Yes.”

“Tank you mooooooom”, Stella hugs her tightly.

“Be good yeah?”

“’Malways good”, she furrows her little adorable eyebrows.

“You are”, Louis agrees and so does Briana, rolling her eyes and hugging her one more time.

“Bye bye, love. I’ll call you, okay?”

“Otayyy. We go now papa?”

“First I say bye to mom”, he smiles at her and takes her from Briana, giving the woman a half hug. “Bye, Bri, see you.”

“Bye, Lou. Call me anything.”

“Will do. Have a safe flight.”

“Thanks. Bye again, my love”, she says kissing Stella’s forehead. That’s when Louis’ notices a flash from distance – he could catch a pap in his sleep by now. It really is time to go.

 

The most important part of it all is for Stella to be comfortable wherever she is. Louis never does or takes her anywhere she doesn’t want to. They see each other more than one would think since they live so many miles away from each other. If Louis could, he’d live in the US to be near her, but he… He can’t. That was pretty clear by the end of 2016 when he last saw Harry at a conference room in a hotel in Los Angeles.

 

“So, we’re really doing this, yeah?” Niall asked. Louis had never seen him look so sad. He felt like he could puke at any minute.

“We are”, Liam stated, sitting across from Harry, by Louis’ side. Niall was still standing, like he couldn’t believe they were just about to sign the end of their contract. They lasted six and a half years. More than anyone would have imagined a boy band to last. Less than any of them wanted.

Louis felt guilty, that day. Now he knows it was a conjunct decision. It was _rational_.

“I don’t get it why we aren’t doing this in London, though”, Louis said.

“I’m not going to London”, Harry commented nonchalantly and laid back on the chair. On that exact moment a serious Simon and three other suited people entered the room.

The room went cold and they all exchanged sincere looks. Somehow it felt weird without Zayn there to end what they had begun together, but they had been One Direction without him for a year and a half then.

They had shared so much. Louis stared at each one of them in true awe. He was mesmerized by what they had done together. He was mesmerized by the human beings they had turned into over the years.

God, what a ride.

Louis had been to hell and back more times than he could count. He’d done things he had sworn he never would. He’d laughed so hard at times that tears of joy streamed down his face, with smiles that could split him in half. He’d cried more during those years than when he was a child. He had cried so, so much.

He had been the happiest and the saddest, sometimes both at the same time, and he didn’t even know that was possible. He had loved a love he never even believed it was possible to happen to people like him. He was loved back even though he never comprehended how he deserved it… In the end, he didn’t, but he still remembered long nights when forever seemed possible.

They were given a pen each, and Anthony started reading the clauses of the contract. How much they’d receive (it was a fuck ton of money, Louis couldn’t even count), how they’d have to remain in contact with them via emails and skype meetings for further instructions, how and where and when their next- last interview would happen and what they’d tell the fans. They were being given their twitter accounts back with only a few restrictions of posts.

Harry was coming out, finally. Well, he wasn’t going to have a big moment, he’d just continue to be himself and eventually the question would pop and he wouldn’t have to deny it. (The second option was: he’d start dating someone and he’d go out with him to be papped, just so people would know for sure and end the rumors of him with every other woman. Louis really didn’t want to think about it, so while they were explaining this part – and how everyone would deal with “why have you been lying to us this whole time?” –, Louis focused on happy memories.)

He looked at Niall and remembered the first week of bootcamp, when he didn’t know his name or where he came from, he just knew there was this guy with yellow hair playing guitar wherever he went and putting a smile on people’s face – he was _still_ that guy; he would always be that guy.

It was ridiculous to think of Liam as the uptight dude he’d met years ago. He remembered how they used to fight at the beginning of the band; Liam might have said once or twice that he couldn’t _stand_ Louis. The thought was laughable now.

The first time he’d realized they were over their bickering was when Liam broke up with Danielle and got rid of his hair and Louis made it his personal task to make Liam happy. They were good friends by then, but they became a gang of their own after those rough months… Somehow that came in handy when Zayn left. They had had each other.

 

            “That leaves us to the last page,” Simon started. “If you ever want to get back together… This is where you say it.”

            “How are we supposed to know?” Liam asked. “I don’t even know if… If I- God.” He lowered his head. Louis rarely saw Liam losing his shit. That was one of those rare moments. “I don’t even know if I want to end this band.”

            “Boys”, Simon warned. “If you ever want to get back together…”

            “We won’t.” Harry said. Everyone looked incredulously at him. “I- I won’t.”

            “And why’s that?” Simon asked.

            “Because you offered me a solo deal yesterday.” Harry said looking straight at Simon, who seemed really, really pissed.

            “Yes, and you declined it.”

            Louis could see Niall’s mouth opening, and he figured he’d be mirroring it. Harry had declined a solo deal?

            “You did what?” Louis asked looking at Harry. “Are you fucking out of your mind?” And, ok. He and Harry weren’t in the best terms.

For months Louis had been sleeping on the tour bus just to avoid Harry’s judgmental glares and any physical contact. For months they hadn’t talked properly, except for when Louis drank his ass off and knocked sobbing at Harry’s door. Harry would hug him, tell him that that wasn’t fair, because Harry was so, so weak for him, let him sleep, and sneak out of the room before Louis’ woke up for breakfast.

For months Louis hadn’t looked into those eyes, but it wasn’t like Harry to turn down a proposal like that. He knew how much he loved being on stage. Louis did too; it just wasn’t in the cards for him anymore.

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

“What?”

“Out of my fucking mind. Thanks to you. So no, I’m not going solo. I need some time. We’ll talk then”, he said the last sentence turning back to Simon.

“We’ll talk then.” Simon agreed.

“I want us to get back together, eventually.” Niall said at last.

“D’you really think the two of them will be able to work together again?” Liam asked Niall not even pretending to be okay with everything.

“I really think Harry’s going to be able to forgive Louis eventually, yeah. And I genuinely seriously think Louis will find a way to deserve it.” Niall said. And that was it.

They never discussed the subject anymore, but they signed something giving them the right to get back together as a four piece group in case they wanted it in the future. Of course they’d have to sign with SYCO again – but Liam made sure they would never _ever_ be under Modest’s management again.

 

Louis was about to leave the hotel when Harry called his name nearby the elevators. Niall passed him and said something in his ear, and Harry only nodded.

“You in a hurry?”

“Yeah, gotta go see Ella. She’s with my mum.” Briana’s mother called Stella “little Ella” most of the time, and he thought it was cute, so he started using it too.

 Harry had seen her twice – Stella, that is. The day she was born and the day Lottie showed up with her and Briana at the rehearsals for their last show – that wasn’t a good day.

The day she was born though… The day she was born, Harry was the one to drive Louis to the hospital. It was a silent agreement when Louis got the call and Harry just grabbed the car keys, leaving their bandmates and crew people with surprised looks on their faces backstage – they were about to go on a live interview and it was hard for the boys to explain why Harry was missing since it was Louis’ daughter being born. Harry himself wouldn’t be able to explain, so.

He held Louis’ hand that day. He met his daughter at the same time Louis’ did. He held her for a few seconds, wished Briana all the luck, told her she was beautiful, and then he was gone.

 

“How is she?” Harry asked.

“Awesome, mum is all over her, ‘s hard for me to hold her sometimes.” Mostly because Briana was the one to breastfeed her after all, but Louis was kind enough to know Harry didn’t want the specifics of his domestic life with the girl Louis had cheated on him.

They didn’t live together, per se. Louis had bought her a house in LA and whenever he was in town, he’d stay there. Separate rooms, of course. He was just there for Stella.

“Does she sleep okay?”

“Hardly. But with our schedule over the years… I’m kinda used to being awake at all hours.”

“Yeah.” Harry scratched his neck and looked down, uncertain. Louis knew he wanted to ask something. When Harry looked up again, his eyes were still not sure, but a bit colder. A bit older. A bit _unHarry_. “I need to ask you something.”

“Anything.”

“No, listen. I need to ask you and I need you to do this last thing for me.”

“What do you need, Harry?”

“I need to never see you again.” Oh. “Ok, like– I know that _never_ isn’t going to be possible. We’re bound to more meetings and, I don’t know, events, but, like…” Harry was looking anywhere but at him. Somehow it hurt more. “That’s why I’m not going back to London. I don’t want to talk to you anymore. I want you to be happy. And I want you to be a great father. But I want you out of Los Angeles.”

Louis opened and closed his mouth a few times before he figured out what he wanted to say. They were standing by a lift, but Louis wished it were a cliff, so he could just jump right then and there.

“What do you mean you want me out of Los Angeles? You do realize my daughter is here, right?”

“Lou, _please_. LA is home… My only home now.” Louis was feeling Harry’s pain in asking that more than his own.

So if you ask Louis why he got Briana a job in New York City and a flat in Manhattan five days after that, there’s your answer. Louis got New York. Harry got LA. Louis got London, too. And Harry, the rest of the world.

 

“D’you wanna knock on the door, sweetheart?” He asked Stella, taking her off of the child car seat.

She’s been really good during the entire trip ( _when is she not, Louis?_ ), laughing when Louis joked and only yelling when she spotted a dog outside of the road. They stopped twice for snacks – when Louis seldom stops at all –, but he knows it’s because it gave her a reason to stretch her legs and hug him. How could he complain?

“Papa, I can run?” She asks him as soon as he puts her on the sidewalk and closes the car door behind them.

“You can run, but be careful.”

She doesn’t even wait for him to finish the sentence and is already crossing Jay’s yard. His mom opens the door with a big smile on her face and a sleepy Doris by her side. Louis cannot believe what he sees – every time he looks at the youngest of his sisters, he wants to laugh thinking that that five year old is the aunt of his three year old daughter. Somehow, everything seems to be like it’s supposed to. Well, almost.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

“How’s everything at work, Lou?” Jay asks with fake nonchalance.

            “Good, mum, why?”

            “Nothing, just trying to make some conversation…” She answers and turns back to the kettle that has just started making noise. Louis would look further into it, but at this exact moment there are three kids entering the kitchen and two of them are crying.

            “What’s happening, my loves?” Louis asks getting on his knees to level with them. Stella runs to his arms and Doris crosses hers. Ernest has a smile on his face, like he doesn’t really care about the drama and is just waiting to go back to playing.

            “Ella don’t let me play”, Doris complains pointing to the messed up Barbie on Louis’ daughter’s hands.

            “ _Won’t_ let you play, honey”, Jay calls and Louis ponders when is the right age to start correcting a kid’s grammar. Maybe he should start with Stella, little by little, wouldn’t hurt to try.

            “I’m auntie! I’m bigger!” Doris states.

            Louis pats himself on the back for the tremendous job he does at not rolling his eyes out of his head.

            “Babe, why can’t auntie Doris play with the doll?”

            “My doll, papa”, Stella answers.

            “No, babe, this is Doris’.” Louis knows cause he was the one to give it to her when she was two. Harry had picked it.

            “But…”

            “TOLD YA!” Doris laughs and Stella hides her head on the crook of Louis’ neck.

            “Hey, you”, he looks seriously at his sister, “don’t be mean. Can you get her another Barbie? Then you can play with this one and she gets another?” She nods. “You okay with this, peanut?” He asks his daughter. She pouts. “Don’t be difficult.”

            “I get a Barbie?” She asks Louis, but Doris is the one to answer.

            “Yes, niece, you get a Barbie, let’s get one.” She says pulling her by her free hand. Stella immediately leaves Louis on the floor with a small smile on her face. Louis wishes his problems could be solved just as fast and just as simply.

            Ernest hangs behind and plays with Jay’s cellphone while waiting for Louis to have tea and play football with him in the backyard. There is something different about having a little brother now that he has a child of his own. It’s almost like Louis has taken a claim on him and whenever he can, he hijacks him from his mother and Dan and takes him to the Doncaster Rovers Training Center with him. He just hopes he can turn Stella into a football fan as well.

            Speaking about it, Louis remembers there’s another charity game coming in a couple of months and talks with his mom about it – it’s gonna be the first time in a long time that he’ll play, the first time since he left One Direction, and he can’t lie and say that he isn’t nervous; he is, but he’s also extremely happy that he’ll be able to enter the field holding his baby’s hand… Oh, he needs to talk to Briana about it, organize schedules and all that.

            Between solving the kids’ problems, having tea and playing with his brothers, Louis almost misses the time the older twins leave school and he asks Jay to look after Stella while he goes surprise Phoebe and Daisy. They’re over the “I’m so happy my big bro is here” phase and now they’re just embarrassed teenagers whenever Louis shows up to get them. He loves it.

 

            _Oh my God, is that Louis Tomlinson?_ is the first thing he hears when he steps into the area where his sisters are supposed to be and like they’re on cue, they turn to look at the whispers that has just begun. Phoebe rolls her eyes – much like Louis, you can’t deny the genes – and Daisy smiles big, a bit flushed and then asks the boy that’s next to her to vanish, probably, because he runs into the sunset.

            “What was _that_ about my 14 year old sister?” He asks Daisy as Phoebe hugs him.

            “Daisy’s got a crush on him, and he’s just asked her to prom.” Phoebe answers first.

            “Isn’t prom, like, in December?” _We’re in August_ , he thinks. “And, also, you have a crush?” He doesn’t even need to fake outrage, his heart is in pieces.

He still remembers Fizzy’s first boyfriend… Fuck, he remembers Lottie’s first boyfriend. He isn’t ready for another one of his babies growing up. When he thinks that it can be Stella in a few years. No, not a few. Many, many years. In fact, he is not going to think about it.

“Shut the fuck up, Phoebs”, Daisy grunts. “I know, language, you shut the fuck up too”, she says turning to Louis and he laughs loudly at this, as if he’d have any kind of moral to reprimand someone else for cursing – even it if is his sister.

They walk together towards the car and, like a blessing, both of his sisters shelter him from people around, meaning: they’re each attached to one of his arms and walking fast so no one stops them. Louis thanks heavens for this, because he’s not in the mood to say hi and smile for pictures.

On the way home Daisy explains that they’ll have a special ball at school for charity the next month because they want to help an animal shelter nearby, so they’ll sell the tickets and donate the money. When she tells him it was actually her idea, he feels like crying – she could easily ask him for money, but she doesn’t. Louis takes a mental note to give his mother a big check for her to pass on to the girls on the day of prom. Then they move on to her crush. Then they move on to Phoebe’s crush, because _of course I’m gonna tell your secrets since you’re spreading mine_ , Daisy says.

By the time they get home, Louis is buzzing with new information and so proud of his relationship with his sisters, just like he’s always had with Jay – even though they had a rough time back when… Never mind. Let’s just say Jay hasn’t always agreed with his actions, but never failed to be there for him. He only hopes he can be that for his daughter.

Of course all the attention turns to Stella when the he gets home with the girls and he goes to the living room to read some emails and send Briana a text just to let her know everything is okay. It’s almost seven pm when Félicité arrives from her internship, bearing a bunch of McDonald’s bags, just like Phoebe asked.

Fizzy’s eighteen going on nineteen now and, of all things, has decided to study medicine in the United States. So she’s been working at a clinic nearby owned by one of Jay’s former bosses doing a bunch of paper work to just get used to everything and come September she’ll be gone. Wow.

Louis really can’t believe things have moved this fast in his life. One day he’s in a hotel room with her and Harry arguing over the color of the tie he should be wearing and next thing he knows she’s yelling him from the kitchen.

“Which one do you prefer?” She asks pointing at the burgers.

“Have you ever seen me eat salad?” He rolls his eyes, picking the bacon one.

“It’s only lettuce, Louis, it’s still a burger”, she laughs.

“Well, it’s green.”

“And I’ve seen you eat salad when-” she stops herself right on time and he pretends he doesn’t know what would come next. Instead, they smile at each other and he asks if everything’s ready for her to move out and they walk together to the living room.

Dan has just arrived and like everybody else is cooing over Stella. Doris claims his attention and everyone exchanges looks because they know she’s jealous, so Louis calls her to sit on his lap and they talk about the latest princess movie that he hasn’t seen – yet – but he pretends he did and that he loved it.

 

“Isn’t it kinda late for you to take the road?” Dan asks when Louis starts saying goodbye to everyone. It is. And it has been a full day and he is tired, but it’s been years since he slept at his mother’s house. He just can’t anymore. There are too many memories in that room as well, memories he wasn’t, isn’t able to move on from.

Louis still remembers the first time he went home right after he got into The X Factor and how much he wanted Harry to be there. It wasn’t really news to anyone that they had become friends within the first days of contact, and when the time came for him to go back for the holidays, he and Harry whined to their parents about how much they wanted to be together – back then, Louis was still trying, really hard, to fight his feelings.

Anne wouldn’t let Harry stay away from his family on Christmas, though, and they both complained so much that at some point Jay had called Anne and asked for the love of God if they wanted to join them for dinner on the twenty-fourth of December, since it was Louis birthday. When Harry showed up at his doorstep in little old Doncaster at six thirty in the evening with a huge grin on his face while the rest of his family was still getting out of the car, Louis’ fear vanished and he just knew that boy was special.

Louis remembers how he begged for Jay to insist that Anne would spend the night – and it was reasonable, it _was_ , it was a long drive from Cheshire to South Yorkshire. That was how Louis and Harry ended up on the couch in the living room until the sun came up on the twenty-fifth. It wasn’t Louis’ birthday anymore, but he felt like he had just gotten the best present in the world – one that would last for years to come.

 

Jay knows. Fizzy does too. They don’t say anything.

“It’s gonna be a calm ride, and luckily she’ll be asleep by the time we get to London”, he says like he wasn’t flashbacking for a while there and nobody shows they noticed. But they did. Louis knows they did because it’s a current event these days.

He goes upstairs to kiss Ernest and Doris goodbye – they fell asleep an hour ago and only then he realized Stella should be in bed as well. Daisy and Phoebe hug him tight and ask him to take them to London one of these weekends.

“In a couple of weeks, okay? I’m not sure I’ll be able to come pick you guys up but you can take the train, Fizz used to do this all the time.”

“Yeah, that’ll work”, Phoebe agrees and takes Stella from Félicité to kiss her too.

“Bye, Fizz”, he says, hugging her, who is a head taller than him. Really. Unfair. “Come visit me before going? Maybe I can help you move there?”

“It’s LA, Lou”, she says apologetic and, yes, ok, it’s LA. “I’ll drop by and we’ll get some pizza, promise.”

“Okay, love.”

It’s not that Louis never went to LA after that terrible, terrible day – he runs a company, after all, and he has _meetings_. It’s just he… Avoids it. As much as he can. And when he goes, it’s usually for a day or two, enough to do what he has to do and not even be spotted.

 

Jay’s the last one he hugs and only then he starts to feel the weight of the week on him. Zayn is in the process of recording, again, just coming off his European tour and it is kind of exhausting booking so many writing sessions that fit both of their schedules. After all, Zayn’s the only one Louis trusts his lyrics with, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have other artists to worry about.

For example, following Zayn’s lead, 5SOS signed with 78 Productions two years ago, and since they’re on a world tour right now, Louis has a shit ton of paperwork to deal with. Everything’s spinning and if he didn’t have Liam to help him with it – as a partner, but more so as a friend –, he honestly doesn’t know where he’d be.

“Call me when you get there, all right?” Jay asks and hugs him for a second longer.

Stella has sleepy eyes when he gets her from Phoebe to put her on the car seat again.

“You sleepy, little princess?”

“Yes, papa”, she replies weakly. “Bed now?”

“We’re going home now, sweetheart, we’re gonna get there in a heartbeat, I promise.”

She whines a bit when he closes the seat belt on her waist, but he talks with her until she’s smiling again, ready to doze off. He makes it back to London in a little less than three hours cause there is no traffic at this time and put Stella on his bed right after one am. He changes his clothes and lies by her side, only taking fifteen minutes to drift off. She works like an anesthetic on him. He got to be happy for over twelve hours that day.

 

He wakes up with hair tickling his chin and a light weight on his chest – the best kind of weight though. When he opens his eyes, Stella’s blue ones are staring at him like she’s been studying him for a while now and it should be creepy, except for the fact that it’s the most adorable thing that has ever happened to him. Louis smiles and brushes her dirty blonde hair out of her forehead.

“Morning, sunshine”, he whispers and she smiles.

“It’s raining, papa.”

“Is it?” He turns to try and look out the window.

“Yes”, she answers him and gets up on the bed. “’M hungryyy”, she then says, moving on to the direction of the bathroom. “Peepee and then food?” She asks and Louis laughs, not fully awake yet.

“Yes, love”, he says getting up himself. “Need help in there?” He asks by the open door of his bathroom.

“No, papa, you is a boy. Are a boy”, she corrects herself a second after. “Mum says _no boys in the bathroom with you, Stella_ , so shooo, papa”, she does an impression of Briana that is really good for a three year old.

He doesn’t remember going to the bathroom by himself when he was three years old, though.

“But you also need a shower, babe”, he argues careful. “Maybe a hot bath?” Louis arches his eyebrows and gives her his best encouraging smile.

“’M hungryyyy”, she complains.

“Really hot bath with a lot of fruity things and pink bubbles and then food?” He bargains.

“Otaaay”, she rolls her eyes and starts taking off her pajamas while Louis turns to the bath. He never uses it, can’t even remember the last time he did. Stella’s the only one who’s been using it since she was old enough to understand _princess time_ – what the older twins said once. Princess time consists of bubbles and pink shampoo and fruity soap.

 

Louis’ still can’t cook to save his life, but he tries his hardest and Stella can tell it by the way she sweetly pretends his waffles are as good as her mother’s. Since it’s a Saturday and it’s raining, Louis figures there isn’t much they can do outside, and the places they could go are probably packed with people, so he opts for many Disney movies and a blanked fort in the living room.

At night, he lights up the fireplace and reads her a story. He even lets her play with his hair – that is now bigger than it should but he can’t bother to get it cut – and put a flower crown on him. He doesn’t even know where she’s found it but he suddenly wants to throw up because flower crowns remind him of Harry and how dare he invade his thoughts while he’s with his happy light? No. Just… No.

Kindly, he removes the flower crown from his hair and places it on hers, taking a picture for Instagram and not captioning it. He doesn’t even know what he would write, only that she looks perfect. He loves her so much.

 

The weekend is pretty uneventful. On Sunday morning they eat pancakes that are slightly better than the waffles and skype with Lottie, who promises to visit Stella in New York as soon as possible.

“Miss you, aunt Lottie”, she sniffles on Louis’ chest, still sleepy. Lottie’s heart tightens and Louis can see it on her face.

“Miss you too, Ella”, she replies softly. “You too, Lou”, she says.

“Is everything okay in Paris?”

“Everything is great, yeah, Lou says I’m able to work on my own which is, wow, never thought this day would come, it’s been a few years”, she laughs, “but, yeah, I’ll do my first solo fashion so in a couple of weeks. I’ll send you invitations… Zayn’s probably coming too. And Li with Soph… It’d be nice if you were here.”

“And miss your first fashion show? No way in hell, just tell me in advance so I don’t schedule any meetings.”

“Well it’s not like I’m modeling…”

“But you’re making the models look good!” He insists.

Years ago he didn’t believe Lottie was so serious about making a living being a hair stylist slash make-up artist. Now she works with Lou Teasdale for Vanity Fair on a daily basis and freelances at some fashion shows.

They talked for a while until Stella required his attention all for herself and Lottie complied with a huge smile on her face and a “see you both soon, I hope”.

 

It is Tuesday afternoon when Louis makes a terrible, terrible decision. He’s out of food and he can’t make his daughter eat take-away. Plus, it’s not her fault he hates vegetables with a passion. She is three years old. She needs to eat healthy stuff.

He calls Jay on his way to Tesco’s at five fifteen in the afternoon. Everything is perfect. Stella is wearing a blue coat that looks so, so good on her and her blond hair is sliding from her beanie that matches his. It’s not raining, but it’s still a bit cold for her. He’s on his videogame joggers – that’s how Zayn calls them anyways – and an oversized hood that he’s pretty sure wasn’t bought for him, but doesn’t dare to try and remember who it belongs to. It’s been a while.

“Do not buy your daughter canned stuff, Louis Tomlinson!” Jay says exasperatedly from the other side of the line.

“I won’t, mum”, he laughs looking for a parking spot. “But I can’t burn my kitchen down as well.”

“Just call me when you get home”, she tells him using her amused tone.

“Ok, love you.”

“Love you too. You too, Stella!” Jay says a bit louder and it echoes in the confined space of the car, since she’s on speaker.

“Lobe you, grandma”, Stella says smiling from the backseat. She doesn’t hate her kid’s car seat anymore, but maybe just because Louis bought her a pink one the day before.

“Bye, bye, loves”, Jay replies and then turns off the phone.

“Papa, look!” Stella points to the door of the supermarket and there are a lot of paparazzi there.

Louis doesn’t quite understand because unless they were following him and got there first… No, they aren’t there for him. Ok, he’s still followed to a lot of places, but it’s been a while since his monthly food shopping stopped being interesting.

He considers turning around and driving to another supermarket, but it’s almost rush hour and traffic won’t be good, they’re both getting hungry…

“Those men will want to take pictures of us, honey, is that okay?”

“Am I pretty, papa?”

“Always.”

“Fine. Picturesss.” She sometimes drags words cause she thinks it’s cute. It is.

He parks the car as near the entrance as he can manage and as soon as he gets out of the car there is a commotion on the front. They call his name and ask him questions he doesn’t hear because he’s too busy with Stella and hiding her face, even though she’s all smiles and waves to the “nice camera men”. If she only knew.

Louis doesn’t know where it is worse, though: outside or inside of the supermarket. There are a lot of girls and they stop him asking for a picture, he takes a group one and lets them say hi to Stella, but moves faster than he would when he starts shopping.

“Ice cream, papa?” She asks running towards the fridges.

“Isn’t it a bit cold for ice cream?”

“Nooo, pllleeeeaseee.” She pouts. Louis wasn’t made to resist pouts.

“Only if you eat them with strawberries.” He tries to sound as fatherly as he can. Truth is he’d love to have some ice cream himself.

“At brekkie?”

“If you promise not to tell your mom? Or my mom!”

“YES! ICE CREAM. STRAWBERRIES FOR BREKKIE!” He tries not to laugh at the way she says strawberries and tells her not to run again. She does. He goes with her and stops abruptly when they arrive at their destination.

 

And right there, in front of one of the fridges, bickering among laughs over a brand of ice cream, is Harry Styles.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments and kudos so far.  
> Hope you like it.  
> All the love xx.

_“Remember when we were such fools and so convinced and just too cool? Oh no. No, no._

_I_ _wish I could touch you again, I wish I could still call you friend. I’d give anything.”_

 

He was standing there and he couldn’t believe his eyes. Harry was standing at the front door in the middle of the night in the summer of 2013. They had never fought that badly up until then and by the time Louis got to London he was pretty sure they were finished. After the first night alone, though, he missed Harry more than he was angry with him. And then Harry was there in that July night, right after dinner. It wasn’t even a cold night, but even if it had been, Louis felt warm all over.

“Hi”, he said smiling. “Why did you knock?”

“Didn’t feel right to barge in.” Harry answered, taking an uncertain step forward and Louis let him get inside, closing the door behind him.

“It’s your house too, H.”

“I know, I just”, he shrugged, “I didn’t know if you would want to see me. I was kind of a jerk, wasn’t I?”

And that was so funny, cause Harry Styles could never be a jerk. Sure he could act brat-y sometimes, but just in the heat of the moment. He hadn’t said nice things, but Louis would always forgive him.

“Just so you know, I took the next flight after yours left”, he confessed.

“Good to know”, Louis smiled sheepishly. The situation was ridiculous because both of them were standing in the hallway like that wasn’t their home. Like _they_ weren’t each other’s home.

They echoed “I’m sorry” at the same time, and then Harry was hugging him. Much softer and better than Louis remembered. It had only been 48 hours but it felt like a lifetime. 

“God, I missed you”, Harry breathed in his ear, “I feel pathetic.”

“I missed you too, love”, Louis replied. “You’re not pathetic. You’re mine. And I love you very, very much”, he said.

“Love you too.” Harry was still buried in the crook of his neck. He was bigger than Louis by then, but even so he always managed to make himself smaller so he’d fit perfectly in the blue-eyed-boy’s arms. And he did.

“Why are we so stupid, Styles?” Louis asked laughing while he walked backwards to fall on the couch while Harry kissed from his neck to his jaw; he was kinda ticklish, but embarrassingly so, also starting to get turned on.

“Cause we’re possessive”, Harry answered, finally kissing him on the mouth and fitting himself between Louis legs. “Cause we’re so damn jealous of each other”, he continued, marking Louis collarbones next, “cause we’re reckless and so, so in love” he said with a smile, kissing Louis once again.

“We are, indeed”, Louis said then, tugging on Harry’s curls. His hair was starting to get bigger and out of control, but he had a feeling Harry wouldn’t get it cut anytime soon. He wasn’t complaining.

Fifteen minutes after Harry was panting and grinding down on him, desperately asking to be fucked and, really, how could Louis ever deny something, anything to this boy? Flushed cheeks and strawberry red mouths, messed hair and glassy green-eyes. Louis loved him so, so much.

“I’m gonna love you forever, Harry Styles.” He said right before reversing their positions and yanking Harry’s jeans down.

 

It takes a while until Louis realizes he’s supposed to say something. He really doesn’t know why his mind flew back in time, but he figures it’s because Harry’s hair looks exactly like it did when he was 19.

“Hi”, he says then, not able to put on a smile, doing his best not to puke.

So that’s why there are so many paparazzi out there. And so many fans with question mark faces near the registers. Nobody’s there for Louis. They’re there for Harry Styles. Because Harry Styles is back to London after three long, long years.

“Hi”, Harry replies, equally stunned, like he knows exactly what Louis is thinking. Except for the fact that he doesn’t, he can’t, because not even Louis knows it right now.

“Can chocolate papa?” Stella asks breaking the spell. Although it feels like years have passed, it was probably just a few seconds, just enough for Harry to be the only one to notice how shaken Louis is. Not that Harry is much better. Louis knows that that flick on his eyes are due to nervousness.

“Y-yeah, honey, we can get chocolate ice cream”, he answers her, so desperate to get out of there.

She turns to the freezer but of course she can’t reach it. Louis would be able to, if Harry weren’t in the way.

“Here”, Harry gets the ice cream from the exact brand Louis loves, because of fucking course he remembers. Because he’s Harry. Because he’s been back for less than two minutes and Louis already feels like his 18 year old insecure self.

He kneels to give it to her and she smiles brightly at him, kinda of charmed by his curls.

“Say thanks to Harry, love”, he encourages, because his daughter is polite and well educated and he is most definitely _not_ having a heart attack, so he can do parenting. Actually, the only thing that keeps him from running is Stella. Always.

It has been so damn long since Louis has said his name out loud. It should have sounded foreign to him, but it just sounded _right_ , like it was meant, _made_ to be said by him. How ridiculous.

“Tank you, Arreh”, she says. “Papa, Areeh”, she then looks at Louis and points at Harry with recognition in his eyes. “Pictue Areeh, and teevee?”

Harry looks confused between her and Louis, but never meeting his eyes.

“Yeah, babe, that’s Harry from the pictures and from TV, good work”, he compliments her while translating what she had just said to Harry.

“She’s so big”, he says to Louis in awe, and then looks at her again, “you are so big, Stella. Last time I saw you, you were teeny tiny”, he smiles, still on his knees. Louis’ heart is melting. And breaking. And mending again. And also bursting. And on his throat. Everything at once. _Why is this happening to me?_

“Areeh know Stella?” She asks with furrowed brows pointing at herself with both of her small hands.

“Yes, I know you”, he says, “since the day you were born”.

“Papa, Areeh know Stella.” And she is _so_ excited. Louis feels like crying.

“ _Knows_. Yes, baby, Harry and I know each other for… A really long time now.” He almost chokes on the last sentence. Again, Harry kindly pretends he doesn’t notice it. Or maybe he’s just concentrated on being nice as well. It’s not like they left everything in good terms. He’s being good for Stella, Louis is sure. Just like Louis is. Because Louis is pretty sure that if he were alone, Harry wouldn’t have spared a second glance at him. _Not that he has actually looked at me_ , he thinks.

“Areeh come to ice cream brekkie?” She asks Louis while Harry gets up and puts his own ice cream on the basket that the other guy is holding.

Right, there’s a guy by Harry’s side. A guy who isn’t Louis. Because Harry isn’t Louis’ anymore. Hasn’t been for forever now. It’s cool. Louis is fine.

“I don’t think so, honey”, he says apologetic to her, not really sure of what to say, but picking her up anyway after putting the ice cream tub on the shopping cart.

“But Areeh no friend?”

Harry is nothing. And everything. No. Harry no friend.

Louis doesn’t know how to reply. He has a mini panic attack, and then Harry speaks up again.

“Sorry, Star, I have to work tomorrow”, he says, never looking into Louis’ eyes. Louis is grateful, but mostly… Disappointed. And he hates himself for it.

“Star?” She asks.

And that’s when Harry looks at Louis, for the first time in three years, in the middle of the supermarket aisle. And it breaks him once again.

 

“Briana likes Stella, but I really don’t know”, Louis told Liam while Lou worked on his hair. They had just found out it would be a girl, she was five months pregnant and Louis was starting to get used to the idea of being a father. He was almost excited about it.

“Stella’s a good name”, Liam replied, “don’t know if it’s fit for a little girl though.”

“She’s gonna grow up”, Lou gave them her input turning off the hair dryer. She wasn’t Louis’ number one fan at that moment, but they had come to terms to be civil and kind of friends until the end of the tour or, well, until the end of everything.

“I’ve always liked Elizabeth, so I could call her Liz. Or Olivia, I like Olivia”, he shrugged.

“You can call her _Star_ , if you want a nickname so bad”, Harry said laughing, with rare fondness in his voice.

Louis didn’t even know he was in the room. He avoided the topic whenever they were around each other – there was no need to hurt Harry even more, Niall had said unnecessarily one day… Of course Louis knew.

“Star?” He asked.

“It’s where the name comes from”, Harry said from the couch a few feet away from Louis. They didn’t get much closer to each other these days. “I mean… Stella means _star_ in Latin. It’s both celestial and earthy at the same time”, he finished and went back to his phone.

 

No matter how much he tries to hide, at this exact moment Louis knows Harry is disappointed that Stella does not understand nor recognizes the term of endearment. Add one fuck up to the pile, Tomlinson.

“Star”, Louis repeats. “You know how granny calls you Ella sometimes?” He asks her and she nods, “Harry here calls you star. Because you’re gonna be the biggest star in the universe one day.” He smiles. Both he and Harry know that’s not the explanation, but she is _three_ after all.

“Pwincess star?”

“Princess star”, Louis agrees.

“Tay, tank you Areeh.” She smiles at him again. Harry’s won her over in five minutes. Just like he had done with his sisters, mother, stepfather and everyone in Louis’ family. Maybe they all had a _Harry-gene_ in their bodies.

“You’re welcome, baby.” A phone starts ringing and it’s not Louis’. It’s not Harry’s either. The guy who’s been standing awkwardly by Harry’s side for the entire exchange looks both mortified and relieved and takes the phone from his pocket giving it to Harry. Ok. So it is Harry’s phone, it just happens to be with the other guy. Why? _Oh, Louis, you idiot, you know why_.

Harry doesn’t take the call. He just looks at the screen and pockets it on his own jeans again, after declining it.

“We should get going… Gemma’s waiting for us”, he says to the guy by his side. “Oh, _oh_ , I’m so sorry. This is Alex”, Harry introduces the guy to Louis, “Alex, this is…”

“Louis, yeah, nice to meet you”, _Alex_ politely holds out his hand for Louis to take. Louis is afraid he’s shaking, but he does it anyway.

“You too”, he manages.

“Going then?” Alex asks Harry after smiling at Louis and Stella.

Objectively speaking, he is attractive. As tall as Harry, dark-haired and brown eyed. He looks like a freaking model. A cat-walk American version of Zayn Malik covered in design clothes. So. There’s that.

Later Louis finds out the guy is _indeed_ a fucking model. And a YSL one. He should’ve known… Oh, well. He did know.

“Yeah, you know how she gets”, Harry says and laughs fondly at him.

Right now, after over a year being resigned with his own existence, Louis wants to die again. Alex knows how Gemma gets if she’s kept waiting. Well, Louis knows it too, that’s not the point. The point is fucking _Alex_ knows how _Harry’s sister_ gets. Jealousy runs like fire through his blood and he tightens his grip on Stella to remain sane.

“Let’s get going too, princess? We have everything we’ve got”, Louis says louder than intended.

“Yes, papa, let’s goooo”, she says and kisses his cheek. She _is_ a blessing. Louis loves her so, so much. She does keep him sane. “Say bye bye to Harry and Alex.”

“Bye”, she waves to Alex who waves at her too and nods to Louis, kindly backing off and walking towards the registers. “Bye, Arreeh”, she says reaching out to him.

Harry hesitates only a second before taking her from Louis. Louis pats himself a thousand times in the back for not screaming.

“Bye, star”, he kisses her cheek.

“Bye Areeh”, she says, kissing him back and putting a hand on his hair. “Softy”, she smiles tugging on a curl behind his ear. Louis misses Harry’s hair.

“You like it?” He says smiling at her and she nods, “I like your hair too.”

“Tank you” she says and then he gives her back to Louis. They don’t touch. Louis is okay.

“Hey, could you- maybe…” Harry starts. “Hm, Alex’s already paying, so… There’s a lot of…  You know… Hm, paparazzi out there. Would you wait a few minutes to leave? Like- if they see us, I mean.”

“Yeah, I don’t need a riot around me and my daughter.” It comes harsher than he wants it to, but it’s all he’s able to manage.

“Thank you, I- yeah. Thank you.” He smiles. It’s small and it isn’t like any other smile Louis’ ever received from him. It’s _normal_. There’s no emotion there. Not even anger anymore. Somehow, this is worse.

“Bye, Harry”, he chokes out God knows how. He doesn’t smile back, he doesn’t even pretend he’s okay by the time he turns on his heels and pushes the shopping car as far away from him as possible.

 

-

 

“Zayn?” Louis calls as soon as he gets home and leaves Stella in front of the TV while he unpacks all the shopping and puts it on the counter.

“Hi, Lou, what’s up?”

“Are you recording right now?” He probably is, there’s a soft melody playing in the background. Louis doesn’t recognize it.

“Yeah, man, why?”

“Can you fucking drop everything and come to my house?”

“What happened?”

“Now, Malik”, Louis says and hangs up the phone. He holds it with such strength he thinks he might break it. But then he breathes ten times, leaves everything in the kitchen and goes back to the living room.

“Papa, ‘m hungry”, she complains as soon as he drops by her side.

“Uncle Zayn is coming in a few minutes and he asked me to wait because he wanted to cook for you, is that okay?”

“Uncle Z coming?” Her eyes widen and she climbs to Louis lap, immediately forgetting whatever is on TV. Louis mutes it and keeps talking to her, running his fingers through her hair and humming something while she makes up dance moves with her little arms.

“We had good day, papa”, she says.

 _Ha, great, peanut_ , he thinks but doesn’t say.

 

Zayn arrives fifteen minutes later with a worried look on his face that shows “yeah, I already know and we’re going to talk”, but does not ask anything, because Louis doesn’t let him. Not until Stella’s sleeping. He asks Zayn to make dinner and handle her to bed. He tells Stella he has a headache and that uncle Zayn’s going to take care of her, and if she needs him he’ll be in his room.

She’s excited because she loves Zayn. She lets Louis kiss and hug her and says goodnight and promises she’ll be good. “Get good, papa”, she says and he doesn’t even say _better_ to correct her. He smiles fondly and kisses her again. It’s his last smile of the day.

 

It’s seven pm sharp when Louis sits on the bathroom floor.

The tiles are cold and he finally allows his head to hurt. It’s hurting so, so much. It feels like 2015 all over again is happening to him because he feels like he can’t get through tonight. He feels like he needs somebody holding him just like Stan held him years ago, because he’s about to fall apart. Literally, his members are disconnecting.

The world’s spinning so fast. Nobody’s waiting for him. Nobody ever waits for him. And that’s the thing, isn’t it?

He really isn’t worth it. He deserves every bad thing that has happened to him and the good ones… They either didn’t last or won’t continue to be there for a long time.

He can already picture Stella finding out how fucked up her father is when she’s old enough to dig the internet and find all about his life in the band – the weed, the rumors, the PR stunts. He really doesn’t deserve her. He feels _so_ ashamed that she’s even in the same house as he is right now, because not even his own daughter can compensate the hole in his chest that was created when Harry left.

He does deserve this bathroom floor though. He deserves the vomit accumulating on his throat and he deserves to have his knees hurting like hell while he bends on the toilet emptying his stomach. He deserves feeling this miserable, because he destroyed everything, didn’t he? As much as he likes to say that everything is good, everything isn’t good. Some things worked out. Some things… Didn’t. And all because of him.

“Oh God”, he says to no one as he flushes the toiled and seats again, resting his head on the closed toiled lid. He feels like throwing up again but nothing comes out. Now his stomach hurts as well. Everything hurts.

Even knowing that they were bound to meet in life, Louis has never expected to see Harry again. Even at award ceremonies, it was like Harry knew when he’d be there not to show up. After they signed their contracts, Harry never showed up to another meeting.  So Louis was slowly coming to terms with the fact that seeing Harry wasn’t in the cards for him anymore. Until today.

 

The most masochist part of him is glowing, and that may be the worst part.

Because Harry looks glorious. After everything – after being broken apart and going through hell, he’s still the most beautiful sight Louis has ever seen, will ever see. He just knows.

The mile long legs are still hidden by skin-tight jeans and he still wears patterned shirts with fashion boots. His hair is still as curly as ever and his mouth still catches all of Louis’ attention. Harry is still princely. Harry is still _Harry_ , even though he isn’t _his_ Harry. And Louis finds him ravishing anyway.

He vomits again. This time on the floor, because it was unexpected. _It’s been three years_ , vomit, _I saw him for five minutes_ , vomit, _why am I like this?_

Vomit, and tears, and sobs that he can’t quite control.

His bathroom smells like bile and he’s not strong enough to get up. He feels like he’s emptied himself again but he’s still sick. He doesn’t know how much time passes until he feels cold water on his hair and realizes he’s up somehow.

He manages to open his eyes and he’s naked under the shower,  Zayn’s holding him by his armpits and he throws his head back, pathetic and weak and cried out, but still crying. _How is that even possible?_ _Harry is okay, Harry has a boyfriend, and I’m being manhandled into the shower because I can’t even stand on my two feet after seeing him._

“Louis, stand the fuck up, you’re heavy”, Zayn says. Not even a trace of anger in his voice. Or pity. Just… Normal. Louis likes normal.

He does his best for Zayn. He focuses on the water running through his body and supports half of his weight on the wall. Zayn finally takes his hands off of him and tells him to finish his shower that he’ll clean the bathroom while he’s at it. Louis grunts but listens to him and reaches out for the shampoo.

Ten minutes later he’s lying on his bed and Zayn’s spooning him. Holding him like glue, just like he needs. He isn’t crying anymore, he’s finally… Empty. Except…

“How’s Ella?” He asks quietly. He doesn’t even know what time it is.

“Sleeping. It’s almost ten pm”, he answers like he knew what Louis was going to ask next. “How- how are you?” Zayn asks tentatively.

“Embarrassed”, was all he could say. “And I feel physically weak too. I feel so weak, Z.”

“No need to feel embarrassed, Lou”, he whispers and tightens his arms around him. “It’s been a long time and… Now he’s back. London’s quite big, though…” He measures his words. “You don’t have to see him unless you want to.”

“I- hasn’t Stella said anything?”

“About…?”

“We saw him today, Zayn”, Louis says, turning on his arms with bloodshot eyes and a sore throat.

Zayn arched his eyebrows and loosened his arms, giving Louis some space to breathe, needing air himself.

“What?”

“I thought- I thought you knew. When you arrived. There were, like, paps…” Louis doesn’t understand. He was preparing himself to avoid the internet and the outside world for a month at least just so he wouldn’t have to see headlines about him and Harry meeting at bloody Tesco’s supermarket.

“I haven’t checked the internet.”

“So how…?”

“I had my phone off… When you called the studio… And then I left as soon as I spoke to you and when I turned it on, like, there were, you know, texts… Liam told me H had landed in London.”

“Oh.”

“He says hi, by the way.” And then a breath, and then, “ _oh Lou”_ , now the uncharacteristic pity is there, alongside with a hint of sadness and sorrow.  “Louis!” Zayn’s eyes are full of water. Louis doesn’t know anyone more compassionate than him (and Liam. And Harry.). “How?”

“The fucking ice cream aisle at Tesco’s”, he says. “I thought I was going to die, Zayn”, he said. “I _wanted_ to die”, Louis confessed in a small voice – ashamed of it all: the situation, his undying love, his guilt, his weakness, _himself_.

“It’s okay now, Lou.”

“What am I going to _do_ Zayn? I can’t see him again. He was talking to Ella and I-”, Louis chokes again, he feels the tears burning in his eyes. Is it possible he still has liquids to leak? Fuck. “I… I couldn’t move. She fucking _loved_ him, Z… _Picture Harry, papa, TV Harry, the curls so softy_ … She loved him at first sight. Just like me.” He finishes burying his head in the pillow.

Zayn’s running his fingers through his hair trying to soothe him, but Louis knows his friend has no idea of what he’s supposed to do. Nobody’s trained to lose the love of their lives and having to see them again.

“He has a boyfriend, you know. He looks good. _God, does he look good_. He’s gorgeous and I-”, another sob, hiccups are coming now too. “I…”

“It’s gonna be okay, it’s okay…” Zayn keeps saying like it’ll miraculously _do_ something. But the pain’s still there.

Zayn makes him eat a little. And drink some water. He only wants vodka, or whisky, or something that’ll help him pass out, but Zayn reminds him he has a three year old daughter sleeping right next door, and she needs him. Then Louis realizes it’s the first time Stella is in London and not sleeping on his bed, by his side. He makes himself get up from the bed and walk to her room, just to kiss her forehead and silently apologizes for being a fuck up.

It’s three am and he’s still awake. Zayn’s awake with him, but he’s not saying anything else.

 _What am I going to do?_ plays insistently in his head. Louis has no idea. He is done for. He’s got nothing else – his strength is gone and all the walls he’s put over these years to pretend he can be someone without Harry Styles are gone. He’s left alone in the dark again and he just wants it all to end. He really wants everything to be finished – no matter what.

 

Weirdly so, it feels like it’s only the beginning.

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks thanks thanks for your comments and kudos.  
> They make my day <3

_We don’t even know how to control our feelings. Actually, we don’t even know what we are feeling. Yesterday we got bombed with the news that Harry Styles is back in London. We got so excited we decided to leave work early to celebrate – not that our boss allowed. But it’s true, guys, last Tuesday Harry Styles appeared with the sunrise at Heathrow airport with 10-month-long boyfriend Alex Hayes. The reason he’s here? Work, probably. Or has he just missed our grey skies? It’s been a while, hasn’t it, H?_

_A-ny-way, since it had been so long, we – and the rest of Great Britain – decided to track his moves and he wound up at Tesco’s in the late afternoon, probably restocking his so abandoned flat (is it still his? Or is H staying at a hotel? We still don’t know. *Sighs*)_

_Thing is: Louis Tomlinson decided to show up at the same time with beautiful Stella for a quick shop as well._

_Fans that were there said that the encounter was nothing less than awkward and so heavy they didn’t dare to approach them while together. Now, we’re not saying that One Direction (be blessed and come back to us) ended with bad-blood between the boys, but we’re not_ not _saying that. Whatever happened, left Louigi and Hazza even more distant from each other than they already seemed._

_We just hope that even 3 years later they still remember how much we love seeing them together and decide to appear at a pub for our eyes to catch their beautiful presences._

_For now, we just have to wait. But fasten your seat belts, old and new fans: we think we’re all about to go down Memory Lane. We at Sugarscape are definitely biting our nails thinking about a 1D reunion already._

_Leave your thoughts and comments below to let us know how you’re coping. Maybe we can eat chocolate together._

            Harry finishes the reading and tosses the phone with such strength on the bed and it ends up on the carpet. There are a hundred more links with pap pictures attached of him and Alex and some blurry ones fans might’ve gotten of him and Louis meeting the day before. He can hear the shower running and knows Alex will take a little while in there, so he allows himself a bit of a freak out right before eight am.

            Not that he has had any sleep since yesterday. He doesn’t even know when he’ll be able to sleep again and his eyes are heavy, and his head hurts, and he saw Louis yesterday. _Louis_. A bit older and with a stiffened expression, hair longer than he remembered it being the last time he saw a picture of his and stubble on point, looking tired and shocked, but still… _Louis_. In sweatpants, loose jumper and beanie, much like _his_ Louis.

            Truth is Harry hasn’t had time to process everything. As soon as he left Tesco’s he met Gemma and when his boyfriend mentioned “we ran into Louis Tomlinson a few minutes ago” he only nodded to his sister with a plead in his eyes: _please do not ask, please change the subject, please call me later cause I need to cry on your lap for at least a day_. And she understood. So she asked Alex about the upcoming fashion show he would do and Louis was easily forgotten – by him. But not by Harry. Never by Harry.

            Harry knows that if he lets the situation sink in right now, he’ll break down before Alex is gone, so he breathes heavily three times and makes his way to the bathroom, entering the shower with his boyfriend and letting him kiss his worries away. It doesn’t work, but Alex seems to not notice anything different. _Thank God you don’t know me like him_ , he thinks.

           

            “Any plans for today, babe?” Alex asks.

Harry was momentarily distracted by his abs, but looks at him when he answers.

            “Not really… Was just checking the internet and it’s a pandemonium out there.”

            “That’s just what you do, isn’t it?” He laughs and leans in to peck Harry’s mouth. Harry smiles into the kiss.

            “Guess so, yeah”, he shrugs, “they wanna know why I’m here.”

            “Don’t we all?” Alex asks kinda like he’s joking but not really.

            “You know why I’m here.” Harry rolls his eyes.

            “You have a meeting, yeah… H, you’ve been taking skype meetings since we’ve met.”

            “Well, I just don’t like coming here alone anymore, and since you had work here too…” He explains. Harry doesn’t like explaining things these days, but he makes an effort for Alex because he likes him. And because he’s his very patient, very hot, very nice boyfriend.

            “Yeah, well, that’ll do”, he laughs and kisses Harry again. “When’s your meeting?”

            “Monday”, Harry says.

            “Does that mean we have the weekend for ourselves in London?” Harry nods and smiles. _Tell me you’ll keep us occupied_. “I’ll find us something for tomorrow then… Call Cara, see if she’s in town.”

“Okay, yeah”, he agrees. “I’ll just write some stuff and play some videogame while you’re gone. And order a bunch of room service and get fat.”

Alex laughs again and says goodbye. He has a photoshoot not far from where they are but has no idea how long it’ll last since it’s for a new campaign and the photographer isn’t very… _Normal_. Harry knows the guy and estimates at least five hours.

He goes back to bed to try and get some sleep as soon as Alex’s out the door and gives up at aroundeleven thirty with tears in his eyes. He has no idea how that happened and he’s not ready to admit it to himself that they were product of his daydream – in which Louis was 21 and asking him to marry him all over again. Nope. Because Harry’s over this part of his life. Or he really wants to be, at least.

 

 

-

 

Su.per.no.va:

 

1)    A rare celestial phenomenon involving the explosion of a star and resulting in an extremely bright, short-lived object that emits vast amounts of energy. Depending on the type of supernova, the explosion may completely destroy the star.

2)    The cataclysmic explosion of a massive star. A Supernova may for a short time out shine an entire galaxy of a hundred billion ordinary stars. It is thought to leave behind a highly compressed neutron star.

 

The first time Harry read the definition of what a Supernova was, he inevitably thought of him and Louis. Of course he believed they would be together forever then, but sitting on the floor on that corner near the parking lot, he realized that that was what they were: the brightest star in the universe, only they were made to crash, and burn, and disappear. He just hadn’t expected it’d be in the worst way possible.

His eyes were shut too tight that the darkness crept into him and it was almost comfortable, being in the dark. He didn’t hear sounds or smelled things or felt the wind. It was just a big vacuum and he was in it. He was loving it, until someone interrupted it. He still refused to open his eyes or lift his head, but he recognized Lou’s hands and voice when he came back to himself.

“No, he won’t travel, he won’t go anywhere by himself”, she was talking to someone else and then, “Harry- Harry, talk to me.”

He couldn’t. He was just… Shaking.

“Love, please, open your eyes, talk to me, H”, she kept saying.

“Mommy”, Lux said exasperatedly, she had followed her as soon as she spotted her mom, leaving Niall and the lads behind.

Harry wanted to look up for her and tell her he was fine, but he _couldn’t_ , because if he left his vacuum completely, if he let something other than darkness into him, he’d have to let everything else. And Harry couldn’t handle emotions right now.

“Hey, HEY”, Lou called someone; “can you take her back to the hotel please?” Harry felt steps approaching but couldn’t make the person’s voice. “Baby, mom’s gonna take care of uncle Harry now and I’ll see you later, okay?”

“But he-”

“Please, Luxie.” _Lou_ sounded on the verge of crying too.

“Otay”, she said weakly.

Harry let out a sob and he was pretty sure she jumped back startled then. He wanted to apologize, but he couldn’t move. Suddenly he was _being moved_.

“Get up, right fucking now, Harry, you are scaring me”, Lou started to say harshly. “C’mon, UP, HARRY”, she yelled in his ear.

“Can you just fucking LEAVE ME?” He broke. “Really.”

The way she looked at him then… He doesn’t know what she saw on his eyes, but it made her take three steps back. Harry apologizes till today for the way he acted completely out of it.

“What do you need?” She simply asked. Calmer than before.

“To not feel.”

“Drugs then?” She asked. No judgment in her voice.

“I-”, _what?_

“Tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”

 _Louis_. _I need Louis_ , he thought. Louis was currently sitting in the green room, a few steps away. And Louis was the only thing he couldn’t have because Louis had cheated on him and he’d just found out. Louis was the only thing he couldn’t have because Louis had betrayed him in the worst way possible. Louis was the only thing he couldn’t have because despite wanting – needing – him, at that moment Harry hated him like never before. From that moment on, actually, Harry started to hate him with all his love. And that was a lot of hate.

 “I don’t know”, his knees failed and Lou’s arms were around him again. He didn’t even know how she was handling him, she was so skinny and so strong. How was that possible? “I don’t know”. Harry only knew how to cry. So he did.

 

When he woke up, there were a lot of whispers in the room and comfy pillows around his body. He realized he was at a hotel room but he had no idea how he got there. Someone was stroking his hair and he forced his eyes open. It was Lottie. The whispers came from Lou and Niall, he’d realized.

“Hi, H”, she said.

“H-how?”

“I’m sorry, H”, Lou said, approaching. “We- well, not we-, but I-”

“We had to sedate you, mate”, Niall interrupted. “We didn’t know what else to do.” He seemed like he’d been crying too. How long was Harry out?

“You _sedated_ me?” Harry asked raising himself and sitting. Lottie’s hands were still tangled in his curls.

“Well, of course not. But you were crying nonstop and out of yourself… Lou was barely holding you, so I got the paramedics before you had, I don’t know, a panic attack.”

“I think I had a panic attack, Niall”, Harry said then, starting to remember how he couldn’t breathe and his head had gone fuzzy but he was _happy_ for it. “Where are we?”

“Still in LA”, Niall assured him. “This is my hotel room.”

“Where is he?” Harry asked turning to Lottie. She shrugged. “What?”

“I don’t know”, she said. “He told me to take care of you and forget about him for a few days and I… I just did it.”

“Why?” His throat failed and Lou got him some water. He drank it in one gulp while waiting for her answer.

“Cause you’re my family too, H. And if he doesn’t need me… Well, you sure as hell do.”

She said and bit her bottom lip… She had gotten that habit from Harry, she’d told him when she first started working with them. Lottie hesitated before saying her next sentence and Harry’s heart that was already in tiny little pieces, hurt even more.

“Please don’t make me go away because of what he did.” She sounded so, so scared. For the first time in a long time Charlotte had sounded like a teenager.

“No, Lots”, he said pulling her for a hug, “we’ll take care of each other”. She was the only person from the Tomlinson family Harry kept in contact with after everything ended (which didn’t mean he wouldn’t ask about Jay and “the kids” from time to time; Lottie was always kind enough to not mention Louis at all).

 

Harry went MIA after that. They all did.

They kept him in complete lock down for a few days and he only saw those three people. Sometimes Liam, too, who would always assure him that “ _you’ll get through this, mate_ ”. Harry didn’t believe him then.

But Harry managed to get better. He knew he would never be whole again, no matter how much he tried.

Not that he tried much if he were being honest with himself.

When management got involved, it got easier – well, easier is not the word. It got doable, living, that is. Harry had always loathed them – of course –, but if he’d learned something from those terrible, terrible people was to put feelings away to get the job done. That was what he tried to do; and of course he’d bend and almost break again sometimes, but he held himself pretty well most of the time.

 

Harry isn’t really holding himself right now. He feels like he’s in the worst kind of free fall with no one to catch him. He feels like he’s gonna hit the hard ground again so hard, and all the pieces he so thoroughly mended over the past three years will be spread out on the floor.

Almost four years ago Harry had his last panic attack. Reliving it isn’t something he wants to do, but seeing Louis brought back all kinds of bad memories from that time, and Harry’s suppressed feeling start to surface once again.

He refuses to let Louis break him one more time.

And it’s not that he hasn’t moved on. He has. He’s got a home in LA and a career as a solo artist. He sees his family on a regular basis, cause after almost six months post-One Direction, Anne finally understood that Harry wasn’t coming back to England any time soon and started to schedule trips to the US.

He has amazing friends in his life. He isn’t in much contact with the boys from the band, if he’s being perfectly honest, but every time Liam or Niall are in Los Angeles they meet up. Harry hasn’t talked to Zayn since he left the band, way before his world fell apart for good.

He’s contemplating reaching out to Gemma when the door of his hotel room opens and he sees Alex entering speaking on the phone in his perfect German that Harry can only understand little pieces, so he straightens himself on the bed and pretends he was reading a book. Right, Harry has a boyfriend too. See? He’s well adjusted; he won’t dwell on his encounter with Louis nor will he focus on the past. All the pain and all the sorrow are gone, or at least, they’re locked away.

 

“Hey, babe”, Alex greets him as soon as he drops his phone and wallet on the nightstand and gets in bed with him.

“How was the shoot?” Harry asks closing the book and kissing him lightly before fitting himself on his arms and hugging him, shamelessly sniffing his lavender shirt. Harry likes Alex’s scent, he always smells like spring, meaning, a fresh start. Alex’s whole being represents a fresh start to Harry.

“It was good, had a girl all over me inviting herself to a three way, though”, he laughs and kisses Harry’s forehead out of habit. “Did you get more sleep?”

 _I didn’t get any sleep whatsoever_.

“Yeah, and then read some”, Harry lies through his teeth but tells himself that it’s okay. Alex wouldn’t like to know he spent all of those hours reminiscing.

“Did you get to call Cara?”

“Oh, completely forgot, sorry…”

“’S okay… Grimmy’s throwing a party tomorrow, said he’s been trying to call you all day but you’re ignoring him”, he laughs.

Harry wasn’t expecting them to hit it off so well when Nick visited Harry in Los Angeles two months into his relationship, but they did, and now they’re friends. In fact, they talk more than Harry talks with Nick nowadays. It should be weird. It is a bit weird. Harry doesn’t really let himself care.

“Gonna call him.” He says, reaching for his phone and finding seven missed calls he already knew that were there. “You wanna go to his party?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun, yeah? And at least we know it’s private”, Alex smirks and Harry rolls his eyes.

So Harry calls Nick and the first thing he says is “hello, you’re on speaker” because he doesn’t need him to ask a thousand questions about how Harry’s feeling after meeting Louis. It’s ridiculous how everyone who was _there_ knows that Harry’s gonna run and hide and dodge the subject as much as he can.

What he can’t avoid, though, is the look on Nick’s face when they arrive at his place the next day. They were chased by paps from the hotel and had to ask the taxi guy to take a few turns to lose them, but they arrived at a good time. The party was crowded and Harry’s presence that a while ago was so _normal_ , was the only thing anyone talked about. He was never so happy for being the center of attention. Anything to get away from Grimshaw’s stares.

It doesn’t work like Harry planed, because of course it doesn’t.

“Excuse me, can I have my friend for a while?” Nick intrudes the group Harry’s currently talking to.

Alex’s somewhere taking selfies with Rita Ora.

He doesn’t wait for Harry’s or anyone’s reply before pulling him by the hem of his shirt and dragging him all the way from the living room to the kitchen. Surprisingly so, it’s empty. Harry has nowhere to go.

“What the fuck, Styles?” is what Nick says first.

Harry’s known him for forever now, and two things haven’t changed: Nicholas’ quiff and his undeniable transparency when it comes to feelings and reactions.

“What?”

“ _What?_ Really? Don’t start with this bullshit. First I had to know you had decided to come to London through Alex, three days ago. I didn’t say anything because maybe, _maybe my friend wants to surprise me_ , I thought. But then I have to find out on the _tabloids_ that you saw Louis Fucking Tomlinson and you don’t even have the decency to answer my calls?”

First Harry laughs, because Louis would just _love_ to know Nick Grimshaw of all people had called him “Louis Fucking Tomlinson”. Then he winces, when he realizes he still hasn’t said Louis’ name out lout. Not to Louis himself, not to his own self, not to anyone. Then he stops obsessing on Louis and focuses on replying Nick.

“That’s why you invited Alex instead of me, right? Cause you knew I wouldn’t have come otherwise.” He smiles cheekily. He’s the prince of masking feelings. The king is Louis. _You’re not obsessing over him, remember?_

“You wouldn’t even have mentioned it to him had I invited you.” Nick says bitterly. It’s the truth. “I’m happy you’re home”, he says then.

“I’m not home, Nick.”

“Yeah, yeah, LA is your home, whatever”, he smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, “still glad to see your ugly face around here.”

“Glad to be here, man”, Harry offers. He hates being… Insensitive.

He often thinks about the people he had to leave behind when he decided to heal, because, yeah, for a long time Harry didn’t want to heal. He hurt so much he got used to it, and he feels bad for the way he vanished right after One Direction declared that their break was in reality a break _up_. But he knows now he couldn’t have done this any other way. Some relationships – like Nick – he was able to save, kinda. And some were just never worth trying.

“Alex tells me you’re staying at a hotel? What happened to your flat? Thought you’d been keeping it…”

“Y-yeah, I-”, _fuck._

 

“D’you want the party to be here or at the house?” Louis asked when they finally managed to organize everything in the kitchen.

They had just bought this luxurious flat in Camden Town after management complained Louis’ house in Primrose Hill was raising suspicion, since Harry was seeing around that area more often than not – of course, because it wasn’t Louis’ house, it was _their_ house. With the flat, they would be able to alternate between the two places.

“At the house, I think”, Harry said, leaving the last box on the counter and following Louis to the living room. “Everybody’s already been to the house and here’s just…”

“Us”, Louis agreed. “Yeah. Okay.”

 

“You couldn’t go back there, could you?” Nick asks, but he already knows, he just wants to torture the answer out of Harry.

It wasn’t the idea of going back there that scared Harry or kept him from getting the key from Gemma when they met the day before; it was the idea of letting another guy in. It didn’t feel right.

Harry felt sick imagining the men that entered the house throughout those three years and there were days he still couldn’t sleep in his bed in LA thinking who might’ve been in their- _Louis’_ bed.

Maybe Louis was okay still living where they used to live together, but in order for Harry to move on, he needed to keep his memories with Louis intact. The flat was off limits for anyone else but them.

Harry wouldn’t admit it out loud if his life depended on it.

“It just doesn’t feel like mine anymore, so…”

“Bullshit, Harry! You’re so full of bullshit.” He cuts him.

Harry knows that this is only 30% of alcohol talking. The other 70% is resentment because Harry never turned to him when he was hurting mixed with exasperation and worry.

“You saw Louis yesterday and you’re parading around my living room like this isn’t eating your insides and now you wanna convince me that you’re not comfortable in that flat because it doesn’t feel like home? Or is it because that flat feels _too much_ like home?”

“It’s because he lived there with Louis”, Alex says entering the kitchen. Harry’s startled and Nick just eyes him curiously, not bothered at all.

He walks past Nick and hugs Harry from behind. Harry immediately turns to kiss him briefly.

“No-I”, he then proceeds to deny.

“Babe, it’s fine”, Alex says and kisses his cheek, putting his chin on Harry’s shoulder and looking at Nick now. Louis could never do that without getting on the tip of his toes because he was a bit shorter, Harry loved to tease him about it. “You know it’s fine”, he repeated before Harry could protest.

 

-

 

Alex was sitting there, holding his hand, there were candles and a three course dinner between them. There was Magic by Coldplay in the background and a dimmed light that made Alex look so, so beautiful.

“I’m not sure I can do this”, Harry confessed biting his bottom lip, worry written all over his face. “I mean, I’m not sure I can give you what you want…?”

 

They had met at an Yves Saint Laurent fashion show in Paris in one of those rare times Harry went to Europe. He had only been there because Lou and Lottie begged him – plus, the brand still sent Harry hundreds of free clothes and shoes and anything really.

Harry had been fucking models for fun by then. When he decided to get on with his life, he decided he’d live with no strings attached; after all, he had just been in a four and a half year relationship, he didn’t need another boyfriend. But then, seven months into his new lifestyle, Alex appeared at the after party. Lou introduced them over their mutual love for _The 1975_ and all the hipster things she didn’t have the patience to hear Harry talking about.

He remembers waiting for Lottie to nod a _yes_ for him to go back to Alex’s hotel that night. He remembers feeling pathetic for it right before Alex fucked him into nothingness. From then on, they just seemed to talk every day.

So that was how Harry found himself in that position. Alex had just asked him to be his boyfriend – they had been going out for three months. Alex seemed to be in love with him. And all of Harry’s LA friends seemed to be in love with Alex. Jeff had said Alex brightened Harry up a bit, _haven’t seen you act like a normal person in forever, mate_ , he’d said.

Alex was also the first person who wasn’t _there_ back then who knew about Louis, because, if anything, Harry trusted him. They were friends. So yeah, he knew how broken Harry had been after Louis. He accepted it.

“H, I’m not asking you to marry me”, he smiled patiently, “I just think we’ll be good as boyfriends. I’m good for you. You’re good for me. I really… Like us together.”

“I like us together too”, Harry smiled.

A month in Alex told him he loved him. Harry hasn’t replied till this day.

-

“I’m sorry”, Harry says.

“And you know that, Grimmy, so why are you hurting him?” Alex ignored Harry’s apology but squeezed his hip to let him know that it wasn’t needed.

“It wasn’t to hurt him”, Nick rolls his eyes but answers defensively.

“But it does, though”, Alex says. “I’m not him, Nick. And I’m never gonna be him and that’s why I’ll probably never set foot in that flat, but I’m okay with that. I’m not a rebound fuck-boy.”

“You really aren’t.” Harry says.

“I know, love”, he smiles at Harry. “And I’m not jealous of Harry’s past. D’you know why?” And he’s so, so gentle in asking. “Cause it’s in his past.”

“Okay”, Nick breathes. “I’m sorry, H”, he says then, but he only fools Alex (who smiles and changes the subject to something lighter), because both Nick and Harry know: it isn’t in the past. He just isn’t ready to admit it yet.

 

On Sunday they stay in and have a lot of sex. On Monday Harry has a meeting and Alex gets a call from home when they’re having lunch – it’s one o’clock and Harry’s already dealt with contracts, paps and fans.

Alex’s uncle’s just died from cancer and his mother asks him to come back for a bit. Harry drops him at the airport and says _see you soon, babe, send them my regards._ He types a message to Alex’s mother and then calls his own to let her know he’s driving over to Holmes Chapel.

The look on Anne’s face when she sees him at the front door of his childhood home breaks and warms Harry’s heart at the same time and makes him realize that maybe, just maybe, he should stay in England for a little while.

 

The next time he sees Alex is two weeks later in Paris. And things aren’t the same. But oh… How was Harry ever so stupid?

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

            Louis is already tired and it’s still 10am. He took the amount of paperwork for granted when he decided to run a record label and now he just wants to knock his head on the table a thousand times until it bleeds – that’s how much he hates doing paperwork.

            “Payne, get in here!” He yells from his office and it takes Liam at least a minute to enter the room.

            “Stop yelling, my head hurts”, Liam complains flopping on the fluffy chair across from Louis.

            “Mine too”, he groans, “why did we drink so much yesterday?”

            “Cause Sophia claimed that since she couldn’t drink anymore, we’d have to do it doubled for her”, Liam’s smile totally gives out his poor attempt of sounding mad about agreeing with her the night before.

            Yesterday they told Louis that she is pregnant. Louis knows they’d been trying for a while now, but it’s just… He’s so happy for them. He called Stella on skype to tell her uncle Liam would give her a little cousin and Sophia had tears in her eyes. It was beautiful. _You’re totally gonna be the godfather_ , she’d said like Liam didn’t even have a choice. Louis felt honored. _Feels_ honored.

            “Yeah, that”, he agrees and looks down at his papers again. Ugh. Work. Right. “How are we on the 5SOS tour?”

            “Good, management team on the road says they’ve sold out in Australia…”

            “Well, I’d hope so, it’s their damn home country”, he laughs and his head hurts again. Bad idea Louis. “Billboard’s just called to schedule an interview with Zayn while he’s in the US for the VMAs…”

            “You going to the VMAs?” Liam asks. Louis doesn’t know.

            “Not sure… Unless I drop by to see Stella for a couple of days… Maybe, yeah.”

            “Can’t believe I didn’t see her last week… Tell you what, we go to the VMAs and then I’ll talk to Soph and we spend a few days in New York.”

            “While everything catches on fire here”, Louis says.

            “Both 5SOS and Zayn will be there too and they’re our main artists, the guys around here can handle the rest… Mandy’s just finished recording, her promo only starts next month… It’s a down time”, Liam reasons.

            They have many assistants, it’s true. That doesn’t mean Louis trusts any of them. He could always ask Jay to come by, since she _is_ a part of this company as well, it’s just… He may be kind of avoiding her. Just maybe.

            “You can always call Jay”, his friend reads his mind.

            “Y-yeah, she might be pissed with me”, he tells him, not waiting for another question, he continues, “I may have been dodging her calls since last week?”       

            “Oh Louis.”

            “It was… A rough week.” He confesses. “I’ll talk to mom. And Stella will love to see you guys in person, ‘s a lovely idea.”

            There’s a pause.

            “How are you, Lou?” Liam asks more seriously now.

            “Coping”, he smiles but doesn’t dare to look at Liam.

It’s Tuesday again. It’s been a week since he saw Harry. He’s already craving his warmth, cause even though they saw each other at a freaking frozen aisle, Harry was radiating heat. Or maybe he wasn’t, in reality. Maybe it’s just how Louis’ always felt about him; it’d only just take being near him for all the coldness Louis’ felt his entire life to vanish. There were nights Louis couldn’t sleep without Harry’s arms around him. He still gets those nights. And, apparently, he still seems to think Harry’s the only thing that keeps him truly warm – on the outside but also on the inside. He feels so pathetic.

“He’s still in England, you know”, Liam says.

“I know, he’s bloody everywhere”, Louis says and suddenly the urge to knock his head on the table comes again, so he does it one more time.

It’s not that Harry had vanished from the English tabloids just because he was living in the United States, but Louis managed to avoid him most of the time. Now he’s on the TV when he turns it on, on the websites he’s used to reading, on the morning show Louis listens to coming to work, on the newspapers and magazines he passes by walking on the street… It’s been a week and people are still talking about him being back.

Nobody knows why he’s here. Louis doesn’t know. And it bothers him more than he’s willing to admit.

“Have you talked to him yet?” He asks because he needs to know. Although he figures that if Liam had talked to Harry at all in the past three years, Harry would’ve shown up at his wedding a year and a half ago.

“Not yet, no. Do you want me to?”

“Why would I want you to talk to him, Liam?” And he sounds more exasperate than he thought he was.

Liam just shrugs and tells him everything’s gonna be okay. Yes, sure. When Harry’s on the other side of the world again. Then maybe, maybe in the next three years Louis will be able to rebuild himself one more time.

-

 

            “But seriously though, on a scale from 0 to 10, how happy are you now?” Harry asked him as soon as they went off stage and inside the van.

            Good Morning America had been chaos. And it would’ve been perfect chaos since they’d just performed their newest amazing single in Central Park on live TV, but it was a complete disastrous chaos because for the first time he had to confirm Briana’s pregnancy – even though he’d done a shitty job of it, it was a confirmation.

            “What do you mean, Harry?” Louis asked resting his head on the cold glass of the window.

            Harry was on a new phase. Like the only way for him to cope with their situation was to be mean to Louis. Not that Louis didn’t deserve it, he knew he did – a part of him was even glad Harry was finally lashing out –, but it still hurt a fucking lot.

            “Now everybody _knows_ for fucking sure that you’re straight”, Harry smiled, “isn’t that what you wanted? I mean, how perfect is your life right now?” He was fake-cheering and Louis just closed his eyes.

            “Mate”, Niall warned him.

            “No, seriously, that is amazing, isn’t it?” Harry continued. “ _From one father to another, congratulations, Louis._ What a beautiful sentence that was!” He scoffed. “My favorite part was when the woman asked how I was feeling… Because I was feeling marvelous, _great_ ”, he continued, “I sounded convincing, didn’t I, Li? At least more convincing about being okay than Louis did when he said these are exciting times. In the end I guess I am a better actor after all.”

            “That’s it, H, stop”, Liam said in Louis defense. Louis was okay taking the hits, he didn’t feel like he needed anyone to defend him.

            “And why would I?”

            “Because you’re hurting him on purpose, mate. That’s not nice nor is it like you.” Niall said.

            “I can bet you he didn’t fuck Briana unintentionally.”

            There was a loud thud and Louis didn’t even realize it had been his head against the glass. Oh well.

            The only thing Harry hated more than the situation itself was the way management had decided to deal with it, Louis was sure. Because it was like a big party. It was everything they had ever wanted. And Louis had given it to them on a silver platter; God, he was so stupid.

            Eventually Niall got Harry to shut up, and when they got to the hotel, Harry’s smirk had turned into something more natural, something more real – and the worst part was that meant he’d abandoned his stage smiles and went back to appearing, _being_ sad.

            Harry was always sad. Louis was always sad. He hated it. Hated it so damn much. So he got to his room and opened the first little bottle of vodka he found on the mini fridge. He had been sharing hotel rooms with Harry since he can remember and being alone just felt… Lonely. Being lonely and drinking was never a good combo and Louis knew it by then, but he couldn’t help himself.

            When he wasn’t angry, there was just pain. Just pain and no Harry to take away the pain. So he was left with booze.

-

 

            Things haven’t changed much in that aspect. Of course now Louis feels other things. He feels love again – for Stella and his family and friends, just not for himself anymore. He also feels happiness, partially. Anger and pain aren’t the only things in his life anymore and he’s glad, really. But they’re still there. And he’s still lonely. The only difference is that mini bottles of vodka turned into this huge stash in his office.

            He knows he shouldn’t drink because he’s still hungover, but it’s five pm and Liam’s gone home. Stan rarely comes to London and it’s not like Louis will drive up to Doncaster just so his friend can look at him with pity in his eyes. And he won’t bother Zayn because he’s just spent the entire weekend at his place benefiting from his PlayStation and poor, but better than his own, cooking skills.

            He still has to drive home, he remembers, so he just shakes his head and takes his coat. He can consider this day a tough one, but it’s not so hard he can’t survive it sober.

           

            It’s nine thirty when he builds up the courage to call his mother and ask her to come to London while he goes to the US at the end of the month. She says _yes, of course, darling, I’ll just ask Dan to organize his schedule around the girls_ and then both of them go silent. Because he knows what comes next.

            “You done avoiding me?” She asks sounding tired herself.

            “I- I guess I am”, he already feels a lump forming in his throat and gets under the covers.

            “Talk to me, sweetie.”

            “I love him”, he blurts out. “So much, mom. How doesn’t it _pass_? It’s been years, _years_ and I-” _am crying_ , he thinks, “I looked at him and, and.”

            He’s clutching the navy blue duvet like his life depends on it with one hand and squeezing his phone with the other. His cheeks are already hot and flushed and he’s just happy his mother is on the other side of the line a couple of hours away from him, because he’d feel so ashamed if anybody else saw him losing his shit over Harry. Zayn was one person too many already.

            “Oh, baby…”

            “He seems- he- he seems good, really… Really good, like”, _if you don’t stop crying you can’t talk to your mother_ , “he’s got his shit together you know? He’s always been so, so much better than me at doing that.”

            “’S not true, Lou”, Jay sounds _exhausted_ when she says that because she’s been saying that for a really long time now. She’s been saying that even before Louis knew Harry.

            Because, you see, Louis has always been fragile.

            And when he became famous, people always got the wrong idea of him. Like they reversed his and Harry’s roles. Of course Louis is a good actor, so he’s great at pretending, but the truth is – was, has always been – Harry’s stronger than him. So much stronger. Everyone is.

            “But it is, mom. You know it is.”

            Jay doesn’t answer for a really long time. She just lets him cry some more and he can’t understand how much _liquid_ can still come out of his eyes for the same old reason. And then she speaks again.

            “Anne called”, she says almost like she isn’t sure she should’ve said it.

            “W-what?”

            “Harry’s in Holmes Chapel, he’s home.”

            “Oh.”  

            “Yeah.”

            “I don’t really, hm, know what to, hm, say”, his throat fails and he coughs a few times through the sentence.

            “She says he slept on the couch.” And _why_ is that _relevant_? “Apparently he’s in denial.”

            “What does that mean?”

            “He’s as shocked as you, I suppose.”

            “Well he did see me and my daughter after a really long time, if he weren’t a _bit_ shaken, he wouldn’t be human. I guess.” He tries to laugh but doesn’t even know what that sound he’s just made was. He’s glad Jay doesn’t pick on it.

            “I think he’s missed you too.” She offers.

            “I’m sure he does miss me every day he’s with his boyfriend.” _God, how did you become so bitter, Tomlinson?_

            “Yes, she told me about Alex too.”

            Louis isn’t stupid; he knows their families kept in touch over the years. If not everybody, at least Anne and Jay, and maybe Gemma, cause they were such good friends…

God, Louis misses Gemma so much. He misses picking up on Harry with her and staying up late in Anne’s living room watching TV shows while Harry went to visit friends and couldn’t be seen with Louis. He misses her sassy remarks that always made him think of her as his own sister. He misses the way his sisters used to look up to her.

            The fact is, when Louis lost Harry, he also lost Harry’s entire family. He lost game nights with Robin and his great, great advices. He lost a strong hand on his shoulder telling him how good of a boyfriend he was and how he couldn’t wait to _see the two of them out there, being the power couple they already were._

And Anne. He misses her so much as well. He still smiles when he remembers how she used to force him to do the gardening with her while Harry decided to cook and wanted the kitchen for himself. He misses planning birthday surprise parties with her and he misses her hugs after so long without seeing each other.

She called him once. The day after Stella was born. She congratulated him, told him she knew he’d make a hell of a father, and said she was a bit jealous of Briana’s mother because she’d always thought she’d be the one to call his daughter her granddaughter. He never heard her voice again.

 

            “Lou, you there?” Jay asks.

            “Yeah, sorry. Alex, right. What about him?” He hates even saying his name. He also hates the fact that he hates it, because it makes him feel like a jerk.

            He cheated, Harry moved on. End of story, right? Ha. As if.

            “Don’t know. Seems like a decent guy.”

            “Suppose he is. Harry wouldn’t date an asshole.” He says. “I always knew, you know, I always knew he’d date someone, I just never thought I’d have to meet them.” _But maybe I deserve. Maybe I’ll even get invited to their wedding one day._

            “I know and I’m sorry, but maybe…” And there it is. That pause he’s so scared of. He knows she’s gonna say something he won’t like, but mostly because she’ll be right.

            “Maybe…?”

            “Maybe it was good, that you saw it, I mean.” He doesn’t have to ask _why_ before she continues. “Maybe you should start dating again.”

            And Louis really, really doesn’t want to do it, but he hangs up on her. He texts her “I’m sorry”, but doesn’t pick up again when she calls back three times.

            He’s lost count of how many times and how many people have had the same conversation with him. _Maybe you should get back out there, you know_ , they’d say. All of them. Like he’d be able to go to a bar and not look for curls and green eyes. Like he’d be able to give someone a chance again. Like he’d be able to give _himself_ a chance again.

            At the end of the day, he isn’t surprised Harry is healed. Because whatever Harry does, he has the world by his side. Louis had Harry, and now he doesn’t. There’s no more to it.

 

 

On Wednesday morning, two things happen: one, Louis receives Lottie’s invitation for the fashion show in Paris the next week, two, he gets a text from an unknown number.

 

**Can we meet up and talk?**

Louis doesn’t reply. He doesn’t need a number to know who that’s from. He’s so not ready to answer this. So he shuts off his phone and takes the day off. He strolls around London and is pretty sure he gets papped meeting with two friends from the X Factor.

In the afternoon, he decides to go back to the record label, but first he sits to have some tea at this cozy diner across from his work building and starts writing by himself after what it feels like _ages_. Last time was for Zayn and with Liam. And he loved it, he really did. But there’s something to be said about writing without commitment, writing for the sake of it. He feels peaceful for the time being and orders another cuppa.

 

-

 

“What if I hurt you, H?” He asked. He was so so eager, but equally scared.

“You won’t, Lou”, Harry assured him for the thousandth time that night.

Harry was so perfect, really, because he could’ve rolled his eyes by now. He could’ve given up on Louis and he could’ve laughed when Louis told him how scared he was of doing that. Not only because Harry was a _boy_ , but because Louis had no idea if he’d be any good at it.

Sure he had fucked girls before. Well, _a_ girl. In high school. And he tried to like it, he did, but then, he wasn’t as hard as he was at that moment. Harry was just so perfect and so giving sprawled underneath him that Louis’ legs were shaking.

“Louis”, Harry said, so sweetly, caressing his face and pushing his fringe back. “Look at me”, Harry said and how could he not? Louis nineteen year old self was so damn scared of love, but… “I love you”, Harry said then. “I really, really do.”

It got easier to go from there.

 

It was uncoordinated. Too much teeth and too much tongue, he used. His first finger was shaking like the rest of his body and a bit cold, but Harry made it seem like he was doing everything right. After he could fit the first one though, and after he realized how good it felt to have Harry’s walls clench around his damn _finger_ , he could only imagine what it’d be like to have it around his cock.

He built up his pace and waited for Harry to ask for more. He had been kind of prepared for it to happen, so he had… _Studied_ how things worked. It didn’t take long for his boy to whimper and demand _faster and more, Lou, c’mon_ and Louis struggled to find a condom. He knocked down a lamp and lost the bottle of lube under their duffle bag and Harry laughed hard – pun totally intended – at him.

“Oh _shut up_ we’re in a bloody tent!” Louis whispered.

“Come back here”, Harry whined and Louis complied, positioning himself between Harry’s legs.

“Turn around, babe.” He had seen it would hurt less.

“Wanna see you.”

“H…”

“’M ready”, Harry said. His big green eyes so truthful. Louis rubbed small circles on Harry’s hips studying his face and trying to control his own heartbeat.

“’M ready too”, Louis whispered, finally closing the gap between them and kissing Harry with so, so much passion.

No. Love. Louis was _so_ in love. He didn’t confess it to Harry until three months after that, but he guessed Harry knew already. Harry always knew.

It only took him a few seconds to position himself correctly and finally enter Harry. And _oh God_ if that wasn’t the best thing that had ever, _would ever_ happen to him. Both of them moaned and voiced totally incoherent thoughts throughout the whole thing. Louis wanted to go slowly, still getting used to the heat and the tightness and still so scared – not only to hurt Harry then, but to come too soon – and Harry was scratching his shoulder blades and his arms, pulling Louis closer with his ankles hooked on his lower back.

“Harder”, he asked. But Louis could only last a minute after that.

 

They got undeniably better throughout the years, but that night is the one Louis’ always gonna remember vividly, cause after they both finished, Harry kissed him for at least an hour, and then made himself comfortable in Louis arms, tangling their legs and pulling the sleeping bag up to their shoulders.

Louis was drawing hearts on Harry’s hand when Harry spoke again.

“D’you think…” He started. “D’you think that.”

“Do I think what, H?”

“Do you think that maybe what we’re doing is wrong? Cause, you know, people are talking so much, too much stuff and I’m just”, he paused, and then turned to Louis, facing him and holding his hand right next to his heart, “I’m just wondering if it were different… If _I_ were different…”

“Then we wouldn’t be together”, Louis replied easily. “How is this wrong, Harry?” He asked caressing his face. “And even if it were, _which it isn’t_ , we can’t change.”

Louis wasn’t exactly comfortable with his sexuality, and it would take him forever to be. But he was comfortable with Harry. And he couldn’t let Harry think that any of that was wrong, because nothing had ever felt so right. Being there in that tent, in the middle of the night in Leeds was the rightest thing Louis had ever done.

“I can’t change”, Harry said, his sudden realization written all across his face.

“No, babe. And I don’t want you to.”

“I don’t want it either”, he confessed. “But if… What if… Like, what if we get back and things get hard and…?”

“We’ll always have Leeds”, Louis said simply. And he knew Harry understood it, what he meant. They’d always have that night, that certainty, that moment to remind them of how right they were, how everything else was just bullshit compared to the special thing they had going on.

The next day, they watched Raise Against perform a song called _Make it Stop (September’s Children)_ while they danced together. The lyrics went straight through their hearts and a while later Harry had them tattooed on his wrist. _I can’t change_ was his new mantra, and it became Louis’ too. It was only years later that Louis realized that that sentence spoke for the both of them: they couldn’t change, even if they tried. Not who they were, not what they felt for each other. But that was okay.

“We’ll always have Leeds”, Harry agreed and kissed him one more time before dozing off to sleep.

Louis held him for dear life that night and promised himself to never let him go.

 

-

 

The lyrics of that song get stuck in Louis’ mind for some reason he can’t understand and it gets in the way of his writing. He looks at his own wrist looking for the quotation marks he had there but they’re long faded. He breathes heavily and realizes it’s already eight pm. Liam’s probably home and so are the other people from the company, they only stay late when somebody’s recording and Louis doesn’t remember scheduling anyone for today.

He goes back to the 78 Productions’ building anyway just to find out he was wrong.

When he gets there Liam’s door is half opened and he’s talking with someone. He can’t make the voices right until he approaches the office. He doesn’t need to look into Liam’s office to know Harry is there.

 

            Louis knows they would have to talk sometime. Especially if Harry’s planning to go back to the US soon, he just…

            “I recorded Don’t Let Me Go again”, Harry says.

            “Really?” Liam asks unimpressed but politely.

            “Y-yeah, for the hundredth time”, he laughs easily. “It didn’t make the album, but, it’ll be in the next, if-”

“He won’t listen to it, you know”, Liam tells Harry. Louis should not be eavesdropping. “If that’s why you’re here, because you want his approval or whatever… He won’t listen to it. He hasn’t listened to your debut album either.”

“Oh.” And Harry sounds… Disappointed. “Ok. I get it. I guess.”

“Yeah.”

“How are things with you, Li?” Harry asks like he means it. A very _Harry_ thing to do. “How’s Sophia?”

For a second Louis thinks Liam’s gonna tell him she’s pregnant, but then he doesn’t, because he’s Liam and he’s scared to death do _jinx the baby_ by telling people about his existence before Sophia is at least six months pregnant and there’s no way to deny it.

Louis never thought Harry would someday fall in the category of _people_ , though, because he and Liam used to be best friends. Just as Louis and Liam and Zayn. But then again Louis was best friends with Niall too, which makes him rethink a lot of things – made him do it for the past few years when he would lose his mind for a few hours, or days.

Like, maybe they were friends out of convenience. Maybe they didn’t love each other as much as they thought, maybe they just learned to do it in order to make a good job and put on an image. Maybe they all fooled themselves.

But then Louis remembers that no, he is being paranoid. Love was so real among them. It was what kept them whole when the world was tearing them apart. He just messed that up to when their friends split because of him and Harry. Or maybe it isn’t completely his fault; Liam and Zayn always tell him that, Niall’s said it once or twice too. But he is _Louis_ , and he thinks everything is his fault.

“She’s good. She’s actually asked about you a few times over the, hm, years.”

“I miss her”, Harry says and Louis can _feel_ the timid smile on his face, “I missed you.” And then Louis approaches the room only to see Harry shrugging.

“Missed you too, H”, Liam offers and they hug. Louis knocks on the door then. “Oh, hi, Lou”, Liam smiles at his direction, and Louis enters the room, trying to hold himself the best he can.

“Hey”, he says, so proud of himself because his voice doesn’t shake.

“Hi, Louis”, Harry says smiling a bit uncertain.

That’s the first time he’s heard Harry’s voice say his name in a long, a _long_ time. He has to concentrate so his knees don’t give up and he doesn’t make a fool of himself. “Can we, hm, talk?” He asks.

Louis looks at Liam for a fraction of a second and Liam nods. He really doesn’t want to. Not now.

“Sure”, Louis says, because even after all this time and all they have been through, he’s still unable to deny a single thing to Harry.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! 
> 
> If you don't know, here are the complete lyrics for the song I mentioned from Raise Against: http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/riseagainst/makeitstopseptemberschildren.html - it's about how society makes teenagers (people, in general) believe that being gay isn't okay. Back in 2011 they performed it, and Louis and Harry were there, and I like to think that this song spoke close to their hearts. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading it so far!  
> Let me know what you think.  
> All the love, always.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Three years is a long time to go without love in your life.”

Ok, so maybe Harry’s only thought things through till this point. Of course seeing Liam made him a little shaken and more than a little nostalgic, but also, he had not expect Louis to cave so easily since he ignored his earlier text, and now he’s walking behind  Louis and getting into his office with no idea of what he wants to say. No. That’s not true. He knows what he wants to say, and to ask. He just doesn’t want to allow himself to.

            “Welcome, I guess”, Louis says going for a light mood, closing the door behind him. “Couch? Chair? Standing up in the middle of the room?” He asks Harry.

            “Couch”, Harry replies with a bit of an effort and walks towards the big black couch on the left side of the room.

            “I’ve just had tea, but I could get you some…” He says uncertain.

            “I’m fine, thanks”, Harry says and Louis nods, leaving his phone and little notebook on his desk before moving to the couch as well, sitting as far from Harry as possible. Harry is a bit disappointed. It’s not that he expected Louis to sit by his side so he’d be able to study all his features, but it kinda is.

            For a while they are so silent that Harry can listen while Liam moves around his room and finally closes the door. Harry figures he left without saying goodbye which is understandable, cause he and Louis are supposed to be talking right now. Except for the fact that Louis is currently curled in himself – he brought his knees up and is resting his head on them, facing Harry but not really looking at him.

            At the same time Harry is bothered, he’s also thankful. He takes this time to look around the room and feels a pain in his chest that he can only describe as familiarity. Harry had never been in this room before now, but looking around, he feels like he’s known it for forever. Because if he had to guess what a “Louis’ office” would look like, that’d be it.

            Across from them there’s a huge TV with a PlayStation right under it and two remote controls. While Liam’s walls are covered in Billboard posters and their artists, Louis’ have superheroes in black and white and some One Direction records. There’s a guitar by his desk and Harry wonders if he’s finally learned how to play it – he wants to ask; maybe he will.

            The entire space is clean and minimalist. He can see there are portraits on Louis’ desk and is dying to know what pictures are in there, but he contains himself. He focuses on the details around there and sees some of his old books on a bookshelf – he wants to cry. So Louis kept them. Harry is thankful for that.

            Louis coughs. He looks back at him and, yeah, he wanted to talk.

            “You wanted to talk?” Louis voices exactly what he’s just thought. Some things never change, Harry supposes.

            “Hm, yeah, how- how’ve you been?”

            Louis frowns and then proceeds to answer; Harry bets Louis thinks he’s fooled him, but he knows his question caught him by surprise. Or maybe he doesn’t, maybe he knows Harry knows and that’s why he averts his gaze one more time. Harry wants Louis to look at him. Harry’s _missed_ Louis looking at him. He feels terrible for it.

            “Good”, he answers.

            “I liked it here”, he offers, but Louis remains quiet. “How’s Sta-Stella?” He stutters when he asks. He almost said Star.

            “She’s great”, Louis answers. He isn’t giving him anything to continue the conversation and it’s getting harder for Harry to ignore the way his stomach twitches every time Louis _doesn’t_ look at him.

            “She’s beautiful”, he says then.

            “She is.”

            “She’s got your eyes… She was so small when I last so her, b-before last week, that is… I thought maybe they could change…” He hesitates. “I’m glad they didn’t.”

            Louis seems to have stop breathing for a second and then:

            “How’s Alex?” He asks harshly. Harry lets it slide.

            “Good. He’s back in the US, something happened in his family…”

            “Why didn’t you go with him?”

            And the thing is: Harry doesn’t know. Cause that’s what boyfriends do, right? They support each other when times are hard and they hold their hands when a family member dies. Harry should be in the US right now comforting the Hayes – he knows in his head that that’s where he’s supposed to be. His heart’s just fine though.

            Harry shrugs in response.

            “I’d have to come back to Europe in a week, so… It just seemed easier.” Lie? Probably. Of course Louis catches on it.

            “You’ve been managing just fine for three years, Harry.”

            He doesn’t know why Louis’ voice sounds like it does, but he decides he doesn’t like it. What has he _done_ for Louis to be such a dick to him anyway? Apart from being away with _good, great reason_ for a while.

            “I went to see my mom”, he plays it nice. Louis doesn’t seem too surprised. “You know that.” Louis only nods. “How?”

            “Mum told me”, he says, “Anne called her”.

            Harry also doesn’t know why it hurts more to hear Louis’ say his mother’s name than his own did a week ago. Maybe because it still carries the same kindness and fondness it did when they were together and in love and their families were _one thing_. For the first time that night Harry feels his heart ache. It won’t leave him anytime soon.

            “Oh.” _I should’ve expected that_ , he thinks but doesn’t voice it. “Did she say anything else?” _Please say no, no, no, please_.

            “No.” What hurts the most is that Harry can’t tell whether Louis is lying or not. He’s either been working on his acting skills or Harry doesn’t know him anymore. He hopes it’s the first. Of all the things Harry doesn’t know at this moment, Louis isn’t – can’t be – one of them. “She didn’t say anything else”, he completes.

 

-

 

            Harry knew Anne couldn’t believe her eyes when she opened the door and Harry went inside – she probably couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been there. But Harry could.

            The last time he was there was right before the American leg of the OTRA Tour started. And he was there with Louis and Fizzy, and the older twins got so pissed that they hadn’t brought them that Louis had to drive to Doncaster again to pick them up. They had a movie night in Harry’s bedroom and had a pillow fight afterwards – Fizzy had loved that even though she claimed she was too old for that stuff.

            Two steps into the hall and Harry was already feeling overwhelmed.

            “Hi, mum”, he said when she didn’t move.

            “Baby”, she smiled like she wanted to cry and wrapped her arms around his torso. “I’m so glad you’re here”, she said. “God.”

            “Don’t cry, mom”, he laughed and hugged her tighter. “Missed you”, he said. They had seen each other two months ago. Two months too long.

            “Where’s… Where’s Alex?”

            “Hm, in the US”, he said and didn’t give her further explanation. He saw the moment she decided to let it go and not ask why his boyfriend of almost a year wasn’t there. Harry was telling himself that it was, of course, a _coincidence_ , he just happened to go back to his country because his uncle had just died. He didn’t let his mind wonder if he’d be in Holmes Chapel had Alex stayed in London with him. Probably not. Probably Holmes Chapel was off limits too, which was ridiculous.

            “It smells amazing in here”, he said smiling and she dragged him to the kitchen.

            “Robin’s leaving work early to have dinner with us, when are you leaving?”

            “Tomorrow, I think. It depends”, he said. She fought not to frown but it didn’t work.

            “But why?”

            “I think-”, he paused, “I think I came here to-” and he didn’t finish. He just closed his eyes and let her finish cooking.

            That was the most natural thing for him and _dear God_ had he missed it! He watched Anne move around not letting him help her and chuckled when she slapped his hand away from one of the pans.

            Harry had had a good meeting that morning – it was about touring in 2020 all over Europe with at least sixty dates. It seemed insane but they wanted it to happen. And SONY people in LA agreed it was time. They even talked about a _world tour_ depending on his sales. He knew they’d be good and he was just anxious about being fully _back_  and by himself on stage.

            He was a performer – and he lived, breathed music. Of course he’d done some pocket shows in the US and performed on TV releasing two of his singles at the beginning of the year, but nothing compared to being the center of attention for so long again.

He drove to Cheshire trying to convince himself that _that_ was what he wanted to talk to Anne about, and that was the biggest thing on his mind. But then Robin arrived and hugged him and asked him about Alex too (Robin liked him just fine, but they had only met three times, Harry wasn’t sure) and Anne answered for him, like she- she _knew_ Harry didn’t want to lie again. Moms always knew, Harry thought. And then Robin let it slide and excused himself politely so he’d let them both talk.

“Will I wake up to your breakfast tomorrow morning, son?” He asked Harry with a smile on his face.

“You bet”, he smiled and hugged him. “Night, Robin.”

“Night, H”, he said and proceeded to kiss Anne, “remember”, he turned to Harry, “chocolate chips pancakes”.

“I remember”, Harry smiled. _They’re Louis favorite too_.

Alex liked his pancakes just fine, but he was much more inclined to Harry’s diet than Louis had ever been and Harry missed having to fight someone to eat fruits and vegetables. And maybe, just maybe, he missed someone to cheat on his own diet with.

“You ready to talk?” Anne smiled at him.

“I guess”, he shrugged.

Harry had tried to talk to Gemma about it the day they met but he decided against it since he didn’t want to break down. And then he had thought about reaching Nick, too, but didn’t have the guts – yet. He knew they’d have to talk. Harry had called Lou as well just to tell “hey, I saw Louis again” and she was so busy that she apologized a gazillion times asking for him to call later. He didn’t.

He knew, deep down, that right after Louis himself, Anne was the only person he’d be able to open up too. So he signed some papers at his meeting confirming his European tour and stopped lying to himself saying that he was _just fine_ and he _didn’t need_ to talk about any of it.

“Wanna go to your room?” She asked.

“No, ‘m gonna stay in the living room if- if that’s all right?”

“Why though? Your bed’s much more comfortable.”

“Have you had it fixed?” She furrowed her eyebrows, not understanding. “Last time I was here, hm- we were having this pillow fight and- hm, Daisy jumped on- on Louis’ back and- erm, one of the bed’s foot is kinda crooked? And also, hm, last time I was here Louis was there and  I- I just.” And he was crying. Damn.

Anne pulled him towards the couch with her and hugged him for dear life while he silently let tears slip from his eyes. He was just kind of hating himself right then because he had promised he’d never shed a tear for Louis again.

Actually, he didn’t even know if that was _for_ Louis; maybe it was for himself. Maybe it was because he had a huge amount of self-pity for not being able to be okay with everything after such a long time. Maybe he was crying because he’d just caught a glimpse of the life he’d never have when he saw Louis with his daughter on that aisle. Or maybe he was crying because he _could_ have this life with anyone else except with the person he had dreamed of since he was sixteen.

Maybe he was crying because he was feeling guilty for not loving Alex like he deserved. Maybe he was crying for about sudden realization that he would never completely get over the guy who had ruined love for him.

“Why, mum?” He asked. Feeling so, so ridiculous. Maybe he was a bit ashamed and he was crying about it too.

“I don’t know, baby”, she replied. Harry thought she knew and didn’t want to tell him, so he laid on the couch and rested his head on her lap, looking up at her while she ran her fingers through his hair in a soothing way. He asked again.

“Why, mum?”

“He is _Louis_ ”, she said almost apologetic.

“This shouldn’t mean anything, not’nymore.”

“Ok, let me rephrase it, right?” He nodded. “He’s _your_ Louis.”

Harry closed his eyes and felt the tears down his cheeks one more time, just when it had started drying.

“He’s not my Louis”, he said. Oh, it hurt. Fuck.

“But he is, honey”, she said calmly, “you see, you might have stopped being his, but I don’t think he’s ever stopped being yours”.

“I don’t- I”, he turned and hid his face on her belly, crying like a little child and feeling his whole body trembling. “I don’t- I don’t know- if--”, _use your words, breathe_ , “if I stopped being his”, he said finally.

It hit him like a tsunami. He found it out as he admitted it: he didn’t know if he had stopped being Louis’. He cried about that too.

“Have you forgiven him?” Anne asked.

“No? I don’t know.”

“Don’t you think you need to talk to him then?”

“Do you think I should?” She bit her lip. “You do”, Harry said, sitting up and looking at her again, trying to keep his hair out of his face. She caressed his cheek and tried to clean the tears out of his eyes. There was just more coming, so it was pointless. She just held his hand. “You do, don’t you?” He asked.

“I think you should do what you think it’s best for you. You’re an adult, Harry.”

“Oh really?” he asked her and they both laughed weakly. “I need you to tell me what to do, mum”, he sniffed. “I really do”.

“I think you need to talk to him and figure it out, sweetheart.”

“But it has been three years”, he pondered. Why should he pour salt in a scar that was barely – or not even – healed?

His mother seemed to have the answer for that, without him needing to ask.

“Three years is a long time to go without love in your life.”

 

-

 

            Harry’s looking at Louis and he doesn’t know if he’s still in love with him. Sure he _loves_ Louis cause that’s just basic instinct for him, he hasn’t even fought it through the years. And, okay, he may still be ridiculous attracted to him as well. He just doesn’t believe he can still be in love with someone without seeing them for such a long time.

            “How is she?” Louis asks him. “Your mom.”

            “She’s good, yeah”, Harry smiles, “she was so surprised when she saw me she didn’t even move”.

            “Well she’s not the only one”, Louis laughs and seems to regret his comment. Harry feels weird about it. Weird good. Like a funny feeling. He hates himself for it.

            “I didn’t mean to- like, scare you at the supermarket?”

            Louis laughs at that and it’s really, really bittersweet.

            “You were there before me, Harry, I know that.”

            “Yeah, I know, ‘s just…”

            “Were you planning on talking to me if that hadn’t happened though? I can’t pretend this isn’t eating me alive”, Louis says bluntly and Harry is surprised by his honesty. It’s almost like they changed roles.

            “No”, he answers truthfully. “Well, I hadn’t thought about it, but I don’t think I would.”

            “So why’re you here then?”

            “I came to sign some contracts, I’m gonna tour next year.”

            “Oh, wow”, Louis seems genuinely surprised. “Congratulations are in order.” He forces a smile.

Harry wants to tell him he doesn’t want to see him smile if he doesn’t have the crinkles by his eyes. He refrains from it.

            “Y-yeah, thanks”, he says.

            “Why’re you here then?” Louis repeats the question.

            “I wanted to see you”, Harry says. Louis eyes widen and Harry swears he moves a little bit closer on the couch. He wants to move closer too, so he avoids Louis’ gaze. “I wanted to- like- catch up?”

            “Catch up?”

            “Yeah, hm, I think we- I think I… Waited. A long time to, like, talk to you guys again? And then it, hm, seemed, well, easier? Now, I mean.”

            “I see”, Louis says. Clearly Harry isn’t telling the whole truth. They both know it. But Louis doesn’t seem to know what the _whole truth_ is anyway, so he’s good for now. “I’m glad you’re okay. I mean… You seem to be doing really great with all the, hm, personal life and career thing”, Louis chokes only a bit, “I’m happy for you”, he says.

“I’m doing… Fine, yeah. And you too, Lou. Louis”, he corrects himself and swears a thousand times in his head. The familiarity of the nickname slipped out of his mouth and it must’ve hit Louis pretty hard cause he stands up right then. “This place is amazing, I’m- well, happy for you too.” _And proud._

Harry gets up as well because Louis is too far away and he’s just spent three years being halfway across the world. He deserves – _needs_ – some proximity. He hates himself for being carried away like this, but he also knows it’s stupid to fight it right now. He’ll deal with it later.

Louis gets some water for himself from the mini fridge and drinks it all down in one gulp. Harry tries not to watch the way his adam apple moves and his cheeks hollow and he fails miserably. So love, attraction and now sexual tension. He’s doing _great_ at this not being in love thing. Wow.

“D’you want some?” Louis asks completely unaware of what he’s just done.

“Yeah”, and Harry will be damned if his voice isn’t a little bit hoarse and aroused. Louis notices, because of course he does.

And he comments on it and suddenly, the mood shifts.

“I never thought I’d get to hear you like that again.” There’s… Admiration in Louis’ voice, like he’s mesmerized by the moment. Harry feels captivated too.

He accepts the water. He drinks it nervously and suddenly he just _knows_ he needs to get out of there.

He steps closer.

“Like what?” He asks. He isn’t flirting. Is he flirting?

“Like _that_ ”, Louis says, his voice a bit higher than usual. Harry feels warm all over and looks down. “Harry”, Louis calls him in that demanding voice of his and Harry feels a shiver down his spine, walking closer. Fuck. Fuck. _Stop_. He doesn’t. “Harry”, Louis calls again. Harry looks at him. “I think you really need to go.”

“I- w-what?” He takes one more step.

“Go, Harry”, Louis says.

“Louis.”

“Bye.” Louis says and like divine intervention Harry’s phone buzzes in his pocket, taking him out of his trance.

It’s Alex.

Divine intervention might’ve been too good for him. Harry’s sure he’s going to hell for what he could’ve done one second ago had Louis let him come closer. Fuck. What’s wrong with him?

            Harry declines the call for the moment, but he’s leaving, and he’ll call his boyfriend later.

            Louis arches an eyebrow.

            “I think I should go?”

            “You really should”, Louis says but doesn’t move.

            “Walk me out?”

            “Not wise”, he tries to laugh but his eyes are still piercing Harry’s body.

Is it okay if Harry admits it to himself that he’s really missed _that_ look? Of all the looks in the world, of all the people wanting him, is it okay if _that’s_ the look he was trying to find in all of the fuck boys he’s found along the way? It probably isn’t. Plus, he has a boyfriend to look at him like that, kinda.

“And why’s that?”

“Torturing and denying myself was never my kink”, Louis says, “that’s your thing”. Harry doesn’t know what to reply. He hates Louis. “Bye, Harry.”

So Harry goes, reluctantly.

He doesn’t know for how long he drives until he heads back to the hotel. He stops at a drive-through to get some bad food in his system and then calls Alex back while he’s waiting for his order.

 

“How are things in Holmes Chapel?” Alex asks trying to change the conversation. Harry had asked about his family and Alex said he didn’t want to be sad right now.

“’M back in London”, Harry tells him. “I- hm. I went to see Liam and Louis today. At the label.”

“Oh. And how was it?”

“Okay. We were all- polite, I guess.”

“Maybe when I’m back you can introduce me to Liam yeah?” He says cheerfully.

Niall’s the only one from the band that Alex’s met, and only because whenever Niall’s in LA he stays at Harry’s house. Liam’s visits just never matched with Alex being there too.

“Sure”, Harry says. He thanks the lady for the food and puts Alex on speaker, cause he needs to drive again. “When will you be back?”

“I think I’ll head straight to Paris, if that’s okay? We got rehearsals and all that, so I’ll be there on Sunday.”

“It’s okay”, but maybe it isn’t, maybe it’s good if Harry flies there on Sunday too. “The fashion show’s on Thursday, right?” Harry checks.

“Right, I think it’s going to be amazing.” Alex confesses in a small voice, like he’s scared of it _not_ being so good. Harry’s never met someone who lives for fashion like he does. It’s cute. He likes how passionate Alex is about his job instead of doing just for the good money and free drugs. Alex doesn’t do drugs.

“Me too, love.”

“You got a front row seat, by the way.”

“Did I?” Harry asks not really surprised and Alex laughs and tells him that there’s no news there, really. They talk for a few more minutes and when Harry finally arrives at the hotel he says goodbye.

He eats watching TV and doesn’t even bother to work out afterwards, too tired and emotionally dried and with too much Louis in his head still.

When he lays down, he plays his day again on his mind wondering how he got from making Robin breakfast and kissing his mom goodbye, promising to go back there soon, to being hard right before going to sleep remembering how Louis’ mouth closed around that bottle of _water_. He controls himself and doesn’t even touch his cock, turning uncomfortably in bed trying to find a good position to fall asleep.

_Torturing and denying myself was never my kink. That’s your thing._

“Fuck”, Harry voices and squeezes his eyes shut. “You’re not a fucking teenager”, he tells himself. His body disagrees.

 

It’s really late when he can finally control his breath again and calm himself down. At some point he falls asleep without knowing that Louis never went back home, just curled himself on his couch in his office listening to Harry’s album for the first time.

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, English isn't my first language and it's really late and I haven't revised it properly. I'm sorry for any mistakes. All the love, xx.

 

Harry likes to think he’s made amends to Louis that day. Nothing is healed and nothing is perfect, but he believes that if eventually they find themselves at a supermarket aisle again, they won’t freeze and make awkward polite conversation, they’ll be truly happy to see each other.

He also knows he has so much more amends to make while in London, starting with Nick, but not forgetting Ed – who isn’t in London yet – and some of Gemma’s friends who used to be his as well. He vaguely thinks that maybe he should give Félicité a call, but then he gives up because she probably doesn’t even want to talk to him.

“Styles, what’s up?” Nick answers the phone the second time it rings.

“Hi, can we- can we talk?”

“Well, finally”, Nick barks a loud laugh on the other side of the line and Harry chuckles because of it. “Tell you what, come to the morning show tomorrow and we can have breakfast afterwards…”

“Will I be _on_ the show?”

“Do you want to? We can do that, yeah, or you can just hang around here till I’m finished…”

“I think so, I… I’m gonna give my management a call and get back to you, yeah?” But he’s almost sure it’s going to be a yes.

Harry’s new management is great. There was no doubt when they left Modest that Harry would seek the Azoffs and he hasn’t regretted it yet. Of course they still control how things are _said_ , but they never tell Harry he shouldn’t say them.

“I’m getting into a meeting right now, just text me whatever you decide. See you tomorrow, Styles.”

 

It’s seven in the morning when Harry sits across from Nick at the BCC Radio 1 Studio to tell Great Britain about his upcoming tour. “You heard here first”, Nick says excitedly and half hugs Harry on the first break.

The studio and the people are still the same, but Harry feels so different, so… Light to be there for the first time with no secrets to keep. For the first time he doesn’t have to answer questions about his perfect girl and rumors about being seen with a _hottie_. He is genuinely happy and open and waits for his friend to finish the show with an easy smile on his face while he texts some friends back in the US.

They leave the studio together and go to one of their favorite places just two streets from there. It’s a Starbucks-to-be. And it’s good and quiet and since they used to be regulars there – many years ago if Harry’s being perfectly honest –, everybody just treats them like friends.

“Oh my, my, I can’t believe my eyes”, Lucas says as soon as Harry enters the room. “Did you blackmail him or something Grimshaw? I can’t believe he’s here out of his own free will.”

“Shut it, Lucas”, Harry rolls his eyes and goes behind the counter to give him a quick hug. “How are things?” He asks.

“Great, man; happy to see you.” Lucas smiles and proceeds to take their orders and is glad when they tell them they haven’t changed. 

“Did you know our young Lucas here got married, Harold?” Nick asks.

“No way, to whom?”

“Remember Patty, the…”

“Little one with the pink hair, yeah”, Harry says. “Does she still work here too?”

“No, Costa stole her, can you believe it?” Harry laughs and congratulates him.

 

His talk with Nick is as easy as he can remember and after they eat, they leave together and Nick takes him to TopMan so Harry can see his designs on the windows. Nick’s been working with them for a while now and things just keep getting better for him.

“Have you considered having your own brand?” Harry asks when they walk back to Nick’s car.

“Yeah, but it’d take too much promotion and stuff…”

“Have you got, like, designs that you haven’t showed them?” Nick nods keeping his eyes on the road. “Show me”, Harry tells him.

“Why?”

“I’m gonna like them and invest in them?”

“Harold.”

“I mean it- look. I can wear them on tour, yeah? I’ll have to throw some YSL stuff here and there, but I can wear your designs on stage and nobody’ll know”, Harry smiles feeling kind of brilliant, “and then, at the end of the tour we can say where they come from and _boom_ , you open your first store in London.”

“This is…”

“They talked to me about a world tour, Nick! Let me use my influence in the industry and, well, people in general to help you.”

“Well, Harold, you have to _like_ my designs first.”

“I will”, Harry assures him. They have pretty similar taste in everything.

They spend the rest of the day at Nick’s house going through a bunch of drawings and a lot of wine and by the end of the afternoon they’re only a bit dizzy and Harry confesses he’s thinking about buying a house in London.

The two places he _has_ in town he can’t go back to and if his life really is about to turn upside down again, and if he really is moving on from his denial state, he feels like it’s about time to come back to his own country more than once every three years.

At some point Nick jokes about Alex losing Harry to a new line of clothes and Harry doesn’t even flinch when he answers “clothes are not our true problem right now”. He sighs. Nick doesn’t let it slide.

“What’s that about then?”

“I talked to Louis.” Nick just waits for Harry to continue.

 “Just talked?”

“Yes, of course”, Harry says as if he almost didn’t push Louis against a wall and kissed him senseless. “I just…”

“You’re ridiculous, Harry, seriously”, Nick says and falls back on his carpet, laughing like that is _so_ funny. “And what now? Are you friends?” He snorts. Harry kind of wants to punch him.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, have you forgiven him?”

“I don’t know. Should I?”

“Not sure I should be the one to answer it, mate”, Nick says and pours them more wine.

Harry is curious to know what Nick has to say.  “You can, if you want to.”

“Ok, hm, think it like that: you guys dated for, what, four years more or less?” Harry nods. “What did you want, during those four years?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what did you _want_? With Louis.”

“Everything.” He answers easily. “I wanted everything with him.”

“And now, what do you want now? Like-”, Nick stops to organize his thoughts. “Your career is on track, your personal life seems… Okay. So what do you want now? D’you want everything with Alex? What do you still want?”

“I don’t- I. I like Alex.”

“Alex loves you.”

“I love him too”, Harry says defensively, “in some level”, he completes because he doesn’t want to lie. He… He _cares a lot_ about Alex; some people consider it love, maybe it is and Harry isn’t recognizing it.

“Do you want everything with Alex?” Nick repeats one of his questions.

Harry never imagined what a life with Alex was going to be like in the future and before this moment he thought this was great, it meant that they lived day by day discovering things, discovering each other; but now… Now Harry sees that he’s never thought about a future with Alex because he literally _can’t_ imagine it.

He can’t picture the both of them living in the same house and going on family events together for the rest of their lives. He can’t imagine the day he’s comfortable enough with Alex’s mom to spend time with her without him being in there or the day he’ll see Gemma curled up with him on a couch waiting for Harry to get home. He can’t imagine cooking for him and two or three or five kids ten years from now, because Alex doesn’t even like kids.

He finds out then that he does not want a future with Alex because a future with Alex won’t bring him the life he’s always dreamed of. The life he’s once almost had and it was so real that was palpable; and once Harry saw _that_ life, _lived_ it for a while, he just knew he’d never settle for less.

“No”, Harry says. “We’re good together, though.”

“You are _okay_ together, Harry”, Nick corrects him. “Will you- will you ever want everything with anyone else?” Nick asks.

“I don’t know.”

 

            Harry doesn’t have time to figure out what he wants to do because Nick receives a booty call. Harry cracks one of his ridiculous laughs and asks him to sign his designs real quick so he can take them with him. He has some pretty good plans for his friend and the clothes are actually amazing. _“Will you model for my line at least?”_ Nick half-jokes. Harry promises he’ll consider.

            Feeling lighter, he decides to have an early night. He talks to Gemma on the phone for almost an hour and she’s kind enough to avoid the Louis subject – probably because Anne’s told her already. She is very excited, though, because she thinks she’s about to get engaged. She’s been dating the same guy for two years and Harry likes him just fine. They all spend a lot of time together in the US.

            He tells her the details about the tour and how he’s decided to buy a new house in the city, so they make plans to go house-hunting on Monday. Once they hang up, Harry realizes he’s got some missed calls from Niall and before he returns it, comes a text saying _“coming to London to see you tomorrow, you twat, do not make plans”_. Harry smiles and turns off his phone, sleeping a lot better than the previous nights.

 

            “Well at least you have the decency to pick me up at the airport”, Niall says on his undeniable and never-changing heavy Irish accent. It feels like home.

            “I always pick you up at the airport in LA”, Harry replies laughing. “Get in before we get mobbed.”

            “We do not get mobbed anymore, Harry”, Niall rolls his eyes.

            “Speak for yourself, last week I went out with Alex ‘round here and it was hell”, he breathes and starts the car.

            “How is he?”

            “Kinda sad cause his uncle died this week, went back home for the funeral and stuff, but… Good, he’s fine.”

            “Say him I’m sorry, mate”, Harry nods. “’M hungry, Harold, what are you cooking me?” Niall asks excitedly and Harry realizes he’s really spoiled him.

            “Room service?” He asks smiling.

            “You at a hotel?” Blond Irish friend frowns.

            “Well… Yeah?”

            “Oh shit, yeah”, he says almost like he _forgot_ Harry doesn’t live in that mansion in Primrose Hill anymore. “Tell ya what, let’s get to your hotel and grab your stuff, you can stay at my flat and cook me lunch, yeah?” Harry looks over at him as if he’s asking if Niall is sure and he just rolls his eyes for the hundredth time in 5 minutes, turning on the music.

            Truth be told, Harry completely forgot Niall had a flat in London too, but maybe because he knew Niall was always so busy flying from one place to another, he never realized there came a time when he _stayed_ somewhere.

            After the band split, Niall seemed to be the one who took it the hardest. Of course they were all gutted, but Louis had a company to run and a child to raise, Liam could focus on Sophia and went to work with Louis and Niall just ran off to Australia to spend almost six months surfing and drinking and being on extended vacations. Harry didn’t really keep up with the news, only when Niall texted him about a new girlfriend.

            From all of them, he’s the one who’s changed the least too. Still single, still fun to be around, still so damn lovable and passionate about life. Now he works with Julian and John producing albums and writing stuff as well. He even helped Harry with some arrangements on his songs. From all of them, he’s the only one who doesn’t seem to have hard feelings about anything. Harry is very grateful.

 

            After being lazy the entire Saturday, Niall gets up and tells Harry he’s going to shower and Harry should do the same because they’re heading to Liam’s in an hour and Harry just nods – surprised, but happy nonetheless. It’s almost nine when they arrive at his new house and Harry doesn’t even have time to appreciate it before being pulled on a tight hug by Sophia.

            They haven’t seen each other in forever, cause Liam never spends too much time in the US anymore, so she just stays in England waiting for him. Last time they were there together was on honeymoon tour and it wasn’t like Harry would visit them during their five days on an island in Florida. So yeah, they haven’t seen each other since One Direction was a _band_ and she went on tour with them.

            They’ve always been good friends and had similar taste in music and fashion – he’d spend hours talking to her and Lottie. He smiles at the memory and is slapped out of it.

            “You asshole”, she says, “fuck you”, she says again and with another slap.

            “God, I missed you too”, Harry says and hugs her one more time.

            “You didn’t come to my wedding”, she points. Harry can hear Liam say _our wedding_ jokingly behind him but dismisses it to start apologizing. She doesn’t even let him begin. “I know, I’m sorry”, she says a bit more privately. “Happy you’re here”, she says. “Hi, Niall”, she then proceeds to hug him.

            It’s an amazing evening, and Harry really hates himself for missing it for so long. Of course he needed to stay away, but maybe it shouldn’t have taken so long. He’s here now, though, and that’s all that really matters, right? Right.

            Liam seemed a bit closed off when they started talking, but now he’s just smiling and being part of the conversation – maybe it’s the wine. The wine that Sophia isn’t drinking even though she’s always loved wine. Harry figures she’s pregnant – she _and Liam_ are kind of glowing. He gives Liam a pointed look and he averts it. Yep. She’s totally pregnant. Harry’s happy for them, kinda sad they chose not to tell him, but then again, he must’ve lost this right along the way.

            They show him the house and when it’s midnight Sophia says she’s really tired and needs some sleep, but really she just wants to give them alone time.

            And it’s like nothing’s changed. The three of them sit with beers in the living room and talk. And talk. And talk some more. When Harry’s sure they’ve exhausted all of the topics in the world, something else comes up, and then another thing, and it’s two thirty in the morning and they’re still laughing.  

            “Hey”, Liam calls him and Harry looks up from the carpet where he’s currently laying on. “Don’t be a stranger anymore.”

            “I promise”, Harry smiles.

            “How was, hm, your talk with Lou?” At the same time Harry asks Liam “ _he didn’t tell you?”_ Niall asks Harry “ _you talked to Louis?”_ and the three of them laugh without any humor, really, just for the sake of it. “Not really”, Liam shrugs when he answers. “Did you two fight or something?”

            “Something”, Harry says and his lips instinctively curve up in a small smile. “Nah, we just tried to talk, really. I was kind of a dick, but he was nice to me.”

            “It’s _been_ a long time, Harry”, Liam tells him serious.

            “I know, I’m working on it”, Harry’s smile grows a bit. “We’re going to be okay.”

            “Define okay, please”, Niall asks with fire in his eyes. It’s funny.

            “We- we’ll, like, talk to each other like normal people if, well, if we see each other again, I suppose”, he finishes uncomfortably. He knows he hasn’t figured out shit.

            Niall grunts like he totally hated that answer and buries his face in Liam’s cushions. Liam laughs. Harry just keeps his amused smile. They’re all a bit tipsy and decide it’s time they call a cab. Liam offers for them to stay, but they politely decline it when Niall alleges he needs his own bed.

           

            “Hey Hazza?” Niall calls Harry before he gets into the guest room.

            “Yeah?”

            “D’you- d’you remember our last meeting? In Los Angeles?” Harry nods. “I’ve always, like, been on your side, _if there were_ sides back then, but. I’ve been ‘round here too when Louis was dealing with- stuff, so I… I saw how he got? And, lemme tell ya Hazza, he still isn’t over it.”

Harry doesn’t know what to say. He frowns at Niall as if he’s asking _what am I supposed to do with that piece of information?_

“’M just sayin’, y’know”, Niall continues, “I stand for what I said in our last meeting”, he tells Harry. “I think you’ll forgive him. And by now I think he deserves it.”

“I have a boyfriend, Niall”, Harry answers exasperatedly because he reall does not know what to say.

“Yeah well, I don’t see anybody writing love stories about you two”, he says and opens the door to his own room. “I like Alex just fine, Harry, he just ain’t your big happy ending”, Harry opens his mouth to reply, but Niall doesn’t let him. He gets extra transparent and mouthy when he’s tipsy. “And if you’re still so blinded by hurt and pride that you can’t see that, I really don’t know what you’re thinking being back in London.”

 

 

As it turns out, Alex’s fashion show is Lottie’s first fashion show.

At first Harry feels kind of hurt she didn’t tell him before, but then he’s just getting to his seat on the front row when he spots the entire Tomlinson-Deakin clan on the other side of the cat-walk and everything’s pretty clear. She was avoiding awkwardness, probably. Louis is there too, but he doesn’t see Harry at first, so Harry just lowers his head to read a new text from Alex.They’re on the final touches, the fashion show will start in less than fifteen minutes.

In less than fifteen minutes Lou spots him from two rows behind and throws a paper airplane on his head. At least she tries, but it lands on a cranky old lady that’s by his side. He apologizes to her and turns to smile at Lou.

“Where’s Lux?” He asks her as low as he can, trying to be polite.

“Back in London with Tom”, she looks at him apologetic and then the lights go off and the music starts. Lou says they’ll talk at the after party and Harry focuses on the show.

There’s something to be said about a fashion event. As futile as people may think, Harry finds himself mesmerized every time he gets to see people on cat-walks wearing pieces for the first time – clothes that somebody created with their own hands, making out messy sketches on different pieces of paper. Harry really, really likes the fashion world, as frivolous as is. He loves it as much as he loves art, just a little bit less than he loves music. But he must admit that this YSL collection isn’t so different from the one he saw a few months ago.

He takes his eyes off of the clothes and focuses on the models.

Alex looks beautiful, but he’s always beautiful – his features are symmetric and square and defined. He looks tough. His hair’s full of some kind of gel that Harry knows by now it’s a Lottie thing. All the male models have their hairs pulled back that way. The female models look great, really, really great, and he makes a mental note to congratulate her if he has a chance.

When it ends, he stands up to clap with everybody else and smiles big at his boyfriend that is eyeing him from the stage. There’s a sting of guilt when he realizes that Jay’s standing right in front of him – but still on the other side of the walk – and Louis whispers something in her ear. He’d bet anything that Louis was telling her who Alex is.

 

“Hey, you’re going to the after party, yeah?” Lou asks him as soon as people start to move.

“Nice to see you too, it’s been so long”, he jokes and half hugs her. “Yes, sure, I just need to check with Alex how we’ll get there.”

“I’m going with Caroline, if you want to tag along.”

“Flack?”

Lou nods and Harry texts Alex – it’ll take him at least forty minutes to leave the venue because he’s doing post-fashion show thingies that Harry doesn’t understand, so they agree to meet there.

It’s really five minutes from the venue and Harry’s pretty sure they could’ve walked there. But then again, this is Paris, that was a fashion show, they’re all celebrities in some level.

“Hiya former fake girlfriend, how are you?” He enters the car smiling at Caroline.

“Long time no see, my love”, she laughs and kisses his cheek.

 

The three of them enter the party making easy conversation and suddenly Harry feels so _normal_ that it hits him again how much he’s been missing out on. Lou tells him she’s dating a French photographer, but it’s nothing serious yet. She also tells him Lux – who now is almost _eight_ years old – just entered her Instagram phase and is bugging her for a cellphone. Harry asks if she’ll allow so he’ll buy her one.

They make plans to meet in London on the weekend since Lou is on a short break from work. They talk for five more minutes until Harry spots Jay again. And Dan. And Fizzy and the older twins he barely recognizes nowadays – which makes him scared to imagine how Ernest and Doris look like; last he saw them they were still in diapers.

Jay sees him at the same time he sees her. And his legs move before his mind decides how he’s gonna deal with this situation. Apparently, hugging the hell out of his ex-mother-in-law to be. She seems surprised. _He_ is surprised. But he can’t find it in him to let her go so he just tightens his arms around her.

“Hi, Harry”, she says in his ear and _do not cry, Harry Styles_.

“Hi”, he breathes through a smile and finally lets go of her. “You look amazing, Jay”, he says truthfully. She _is_ amazing, actually. He loves her so much.

“Hey, Dan”, he says and Dan smiles at him, giving him one of those hand-shakes-half-hugs things men do.

“It’s been a while, Styles”, he says, “missed your face”.

Harry laughs and turns to the girls.

Before he can do anything, Phoebe and Daisy throw themselves at him at the same time with arms around his waist just like they did since they learned how to hug. He feels loved. He feels his heart breaking in a billion little pieces. He feels like there’s a hole being filled in his stomach – a hole he’s coached himself to forget about.

“It’s not fair how big you’ve gotten”, he says. “I don’t even have to lower myself anymore.”

“Lie”, Phoebe says, “you’re totally bending right now”, she smiles but continues with her face buried in his jacket.

Daisy lets go first and stares at him.

“God, you’re as hot as ever”, she says.

“Since when _hot_ is part of your vocabulary?” He asks astonished and they all laugh, except for Félicité, who raises her voice for the first time.

“Since it’s been almost four years, you jerk”, she rolls her eyes and Jay shoots her a killing look.

“Hi, Fizz”, he says. The twins are by his side. They are all arranged in a circle and he cannot give a crap if anybody is watching or recording this moment. He feels almost complete.

Fizzy is so big. She’s what? Nineteen now? Almost twenty, he’s sure. She looks stunning and her hair is way shorter than it used to be. Her make-up is heavier. Her eyes are still the same, like the rest of the family. He wants to hug her, but she seems upset.

“Not one call, Harry”, she complains, “not once”.

“I’m really sorry, Fizz”, he bows his head and the steps closer. “Yell at me all you want but please hug me first?” He asks. She gives in.

“Still hate you”, she says over his shoulder. She’s the tallest of them all.

“Still love you”, he confesses and she hugs him tighter.

“Mom, have you seen Lot-”, Louis stops mid-sentence. Harry freezes in Félicité’s arms as soon as he hears his voice. They let go of the hug. “Oh.” Louis voices; he can’t even hide his surprise or the slightest of sparks in his ocean-blue eyes.

Harry wants to run. He smiles.

“Hi, Louis”, he says.

“Hi”, Louis replies.

“Lot’s coming with the models, she stayed behind”, Jay informs Louis.

“They’re almost here, my b- erm, they’re almost here”, Harry says. He definitely does _not_ want to talk about Alex with them.

“Oh yeah, yeah, Lottie’s told us she knows Alex”, Phoebe says. “He’s fit, H.” His face goes still. This is not happening, not at all.

He doesn’t know how to answer. He looks at Jay with pleading eyes. Louis is gripping her hand for dear life but his face is emotionless.

“How are you, Harry?” Jay asks him.

“I’m really good, I-”, he stops to breathe; he didn’t realize he was catching his breath for so long, “I’m good. How are you guys? How’s Ernie and Doris? Where _are_ they?”

“At the hotel, with the sitter”, Dan answers, “no way we could bring them”.

“Bet they’re huge, though”, he says smiling. _Bet they don’t even remember me_ , he thinks. The pieces of his heart hurt.

“They are, they’re in school, can you believe it?” Daisy asks. “They were so little only yesterday”, she cries out.

“ _You_ were so little only yesterday”, Harry inputs, “I mean, here you are wearing make-up, I feel old.”

“D’you still have your back problem?” Phoebe asks mocking him.

“Gets worse with age, I guess”, he shrugs. “Can still totally carry you around.”

“And go on a yoga session afterwards”, she replies laughing and they all join her.

They continue catching up and the girls tell him about a charity prom at school and he gets excited, telling them he really wants to help. They exchange phone numbers and he pretends he doesn’t see the agony in Louis’ eyes for a while.

Then he turns his attention to Fizzy, who tells him all about her plans to go to med-school and he promises, _with everything he’s got_ , they’ll meet up once she’s in the US.

“I mean, ‘m gonna be here for a while and on tour next year, but LA is still my home-basis so, y-yeah, I’ll visit you”, he assures her.

“Don’t creep into my frat parties, Harold, you’re old for this”, she makes fun of him in a very _Louis_ way. Actually, they all have something very _Louis_ about them. Maybe that’s why he adores them to the bones. Harry seriously needs to get a grip.

“I’d like to stress that I’m only twenty-five, thank you very much”, he says proudly.

“Twenty-five going fifty”, Dan jokes.

“Well don’t worry, Harry, you’ll always be sixteen to me”, Jay says.

And he wants to thank her, he really does. He wants to tell her she’ll always be like a second mother to him and that his twenty-five year old self loves her just as much as his sixteen curly one did.

But then Louis makes a strangled noise and starts to walk away from them really quick and he exchanges the fastest of looks with Johanna before running after him. That’s his first mistake.

 

“Louis, open the door”, he says trying to contain his voice.

It’s one of those restrooms with stalls, since they’re on a hotel saloon, but Louis’ locked the main door. He’s pretty sure there’s only him in there and he can picture him telling everyone that was in there to fuck off. He loves Louis a bit right then, just because he _imagined_ a sassy moment. Harry also considers going to therapy. Well, going _back_ to therapy.

“Louis”, he calls louder.

“Not now, Harry”, Louis answers. Asks.

“Open the door.”

“No.”

“Now, Louis”, it’s even louder, but not loud enough that the music around won’t muffle. He doesn’t hear when the lock clicks, but Louis opens it. He steps in and locks it behind him. He has no idea why. That’s his second mistake.

“What the fuck do you want, Harry?” Louis asks harshly.

Harry can’t answer because for the first time tonight he actually sees him. And it’s breathtaking. He’s just spent one hour looking at models and none of them can make him as impressed as the man in front of him.

Louis is wearing really tight black trousers and a low cut V neck YSL white shirt. Harry knows because he has one. He’s also wearing one of his signature blazers and his hair’s in a quiff.

Harry’s always had a thing for Louis in quiffs. He’s always loved how much older and sharper he looks, his cheekbones more prominent, his posture more daddy-like. But he’s always had a thing for Louis wearing a fringe as well – looking soft and cuddly and so damn beautiful. Harry’s also always had a thing for Louis with messy morning hair. And his wet ridiculous shower hair. And his football sweaty hair.

Harry’s always had the biggest of the things for _Louis_ , period. And he feels stupid for even thinking it’d go away.

He snaps out of his trance when he sees that Louis is splashing water on his face and then drying it with a paper towel, his cheeks are reddened.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks, getting closer but not close enough that Louis will feel the need to take a step back.

“What’s wrong?” Louis snorts. “Seriously?” Harry frowns. “It’s _okay_ if you wanna mess with me, you know?” Louis says accusatorily. “But messing with my family? _Really_ Harry?”

“I- w-what?” He doesn’t understand. “I’m not messing with your family.”

“THE FUCK YOU AREN’T”, Louis yells. “You don’t get to disappear for over three years to just come back and tell my sisters how much you love them, and make plans with Fizzy and help the twins’ charity event…”

“I lov-” He starts.

“NO, HARRY, NO!” He yells again. “Phoebe and Daisy were barely eleven when you vanished and I _had_ to explain to them why you never called or showed up anymore and YEAH, FINE, MAYBE I DESERVED THAT BACK THEN, IT WAS UP TO ME TO TELL MY FAMILY HOW FUCKED UP I WAS, I _AM_ , HOW MUCH I SCREWED UP, BUT YOU”, he takes a breath, “YOU DON’T GET TO COME BACK AFTER ALL THIS TIME AND PRETEND IT’S OKAY”, Louis says and Harry gets the feeling he’s not done. And he isn’t. When he finishes, in a small voice, Harry just wants to hug him. “It isn’t okay.”

There may be tears in Louis’ eyes but 1) his head is bowed, 2) Harry isn’t close enough. He approaches. Now Louis takes a step back but hits the wall. Harry can see when he realizes he’s cornered.

“I missed your family, Lou”, he explains. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that I didn’t miss them. I miss them every day.”

“And they missed you too, H”, Louis says. _H_. Harry wants to cry too. “I’m sure they did. And I’m sure you missed them too. But they’re _my_ family. They are _aware_ that _I_ broke us up, that _I_ made you go away, that _I_ had a kid with a woman even though I’m as gay as they come. But they’ve forgiven me. They let go. They’re _still_ _my_ family. They are all I have. And you can’t-” he sobs, “you can’t come here and think that it’s fine to hug my mum like you did when we- when we were- together”, _God_ , Harry wants to take the pain of Louis’ eyes away. He doesn’t know how. “You can’t come back here after all this time and parade with your boyf-”, another sob, “with your boyfriend and not expect me to- to.”

“Shut up, please”, Harry asks. He didn’t expect his voice to be so broken.

“I mean, you can- like. You _can_ parade with your boyfriend in front of me, it’s fine, I can take it”, he says.

“Louis.”

“I mean- I. Yeah. I can manage”, he says.

“Shut up, Louis.”

“But please, Harry, _please_ , don’t talk to my family like you’re not gonna leave them ag-” Harry kisses him. That’s his third mistake. And that’s also where he stops counting because Louis makes a surprised noise and Harry traps him between his own body and the wall.

“H”, Louis tries to say in a muffled sound.

“Shut up, please, shut up”, Harry says, breathing hot air on his face. The proximity’s making him dizzy already. Fuck, he’s gonna regret it, isn’t he?

There are people outside. _Alex_ is probably outside already. Louis’ entire family is there. There are photographers. There’s probably a line outside the restroom by now. But there’s also Louis’ mouth close to his, Louis’ hands on his arms and Louis’ eyes staring at him, so vulnerable, so scared, so _Louis_. Harry kisses him again – surer this time.

Nothing’s ever felt so wrong. But oh, God, if this isn’t the rightest thing Harry’s done in so much time.

He can probably keep it chaste and full of good memories and then step away. Except for the fact that he doesn’t want to, no. When he feels one of Louis’ hands sliding to this neck, he just presses his body closer and his tongue inside his mouth.

 _Fuck_ , that taste. _Damn it_. Harry curses five generations while trying not to whine so soon into the kiss. This fucking kiss.

 The ghost of Louis’ kiss that’s been haunting him ever since they last made out is nothing compared to the kiss itself, to his tongue going to the roof of Harry’s mouth and fighting Harry’s own tongue until it gains control. Nothing’s like being aroused by the feeling of Louis body pressed against his and his thin lips on Harry’s own plush ones.

He tightens his grip on Louis waist like the wants to bruise it and Louis lets out a loud moan that he probably didn’t want to, but Harry revels in it and lowers one of his hands to squeeze his bum – _fuck had he missed that bum_ – and Louis pulls his hair at the exact same time. Harry’s dead and he’s in hell.

They continue kissing and lose track of time. They kiss knowingly, like not even a day has passed since they last did it. It eventually goes from _I-really-wanna-fuck-you-or-be-fucked-by-you_ speed to _we-should-stop-but-I-don’t-know-how-neither-do-I-want-to_ speed.

Louis is the one to finish it. His hand’s still caressing Harry’s hair. Harry brings one hand do Louis’ cheek and caresses it too; his skin still feels the same.

“We should probably get out of here”, Louis whispers, eyes closed.

“Yeah”, Harry agrees in the same tone. They don’t move for a while.

Once they finally get their breaths back they make their way outside the bathroom in silence, side by side. They’re both so _scared_ and shocked and, even if they won’t admit it, _happy_. Harry’s not worried about a single thing until that door opens.

And then he sees the party and people walking by. _Drunk_ by Ed Sheeran is playing, he sees Alex talking to some friends and Lottie is already there too, taking a selfie with Lou. By some miracle, there was nobody waiting outside the restroom to see they were in there together. Nobody seems to have _noticed_ that they just made out.

Planet earth kept turning while they were together; the world is still the same. But Harry’s own has just shifted again.

Solid ground is gone. He’s back to Louis-land. Fuck.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex isn't shiny cause Louis is the sun.

For someone who has been cheated on, to do that same thing should be unacceptable. Well, it _is_ unacceptable. Thing is, Harry’s always had a slight problem controlling his impulses. Since the early days of the X Factor where management team would want to strangle him for touching Louis too much until the Take Me Home Tour where he’d change the lyrics to a bunch of songs just because. It doesn’t _justify_ his mistakes, it’s just the way it has always been; the way it is.

He’s currently stuffing himself with champagne trying to get as drunk as possible before he needs to face Alex again. It doesn’t work. Alex finds him on a quiet corner when he’s still having his fifth glass. Harry breathes ten times before looking him in the eyes.

“Babe, are you okay?” Alex asks putting his hands on Harry’s neck, almost the same place Louis’ own were just a few minutes ago. Harry shakes his head negatively. “What’s wrong?”

“Me”, he tells him, “I am.”

“Are you sick?” He asks frowning eyeing the empty glasses around Harry.

“No I think I- I need to go rest? Maybe?”

“D’you wanna go back to the hotel?”

“Is it okay if I go back to London?” Alex doesn’t seem to like it.

“I’ve missed you”, he says. Harry wants to cry.

“You too”, he replies cause it’s the truth. “I- I’ll… I’ll get back to the hotel then? But you can stay, it’s… It’s fine.”

“No, lemme just say a few goodbyes, we can go, it’s fine”, Alex assures him. “You’ll tell me what’s wrong, right?” Harry nods. He has no idea of _what_ he’s going to tell Alex, but he knows he’ll never be able to forgive himself if he hides it from him. It wouldn’t be fair.

They separate and agree to meet in fifteen minutes at the exit. Harry walks around saying quick goodbyes and when he talks to Lou, she _knows_ something went wrong and squeezes his hand as if she’s saying “it’s going to be okay, talk later”. He smiles thankfully at her and kisses her cheek. He doesn’t see Caroline to say goodbye. He does see Fizzy, though, and makes his legs move towards her.

“Hey, Fiz”, he calls. She’s talking to some people he doesn’t know so he just smiles and nods. “’M gonna go”, he tells her, “where’s everybody?”

“Hm… Mom’s with Lou somewhere, Dan and the girls are there”, he points to a table on the other side of the room. “Why are you going so early?”

“Alex and I are kinda tired”, he lies.

“Oh, kay”, she says slightly disappointed. “Can I text you when I get to the US?” She asks already hugging him.

“Absolutely”, he answers. “Sorry I kind of went MIA.”

“I never want to know about you through some magazine again, Harry”, she confesses lowly in his ear. “I’m sorry for what Louis did”, she continues, “but we are not him. And we love you.”

Harry knows how hard it is for her to be saying that. She’s the one who’s _more like_ Louis. She’s the toughest girl he knows right after his own mother and Jay. Last time Harry saw Fizzy vulnerable she was twelve and with a skinned knee. The pieces of his heart hurt again.

“I’m sorry”, he says again. “I love you too, so, so much”, Harry reinforces. Because he does.

He then proceeds to say goodbye to the twins and Dan.

Both Phoebe and Daisy hug him tight, separately this time, and ask him the same thing: _don’t go away again, we miss you, we love you_. He tells them the same thing he’s told Fizzy and means it. And then he talks to Dan, and Dan drops his voice to ask “ _what the hell happened, Harry?_ ”. He looks apologetic but doesn’t answer, just promises he’ll call Jay.

And then he’s gone.

He meets Alex outside and they enter a limo to go to the hotel. Alex holds his hand all the way and kisses his temple when it’s time for them to get out of the car. Alex is sweet, and caring, and he really likes – loves – Harry. He says the right things at the right times and even lets Harry be the little spoon even though he was used to _being_ it before, he told Harry once.

Harry feels worse by the second. As soon as they’re inside their room, Alex kisses him and right now it only makes him realize it’s _never_ gonna be Alex. So he starts crying.

Alex holds him and he cries even more. Harry’s cried in two weeks what he hasn’t for the past two years at least. He didn’t know his body could still produce this much liquid in the form of tears.

He _wants_ Alex to be the one, is the thing; he wants their walks in the park and their days on the beach to be enough; he wants their lazy nights-in and their hipster programs to be enough; he wants their gym sessions and their friends in common to be enough. But they aren’t are they?

Because Harry still doesn’t get to listen to a high-pitched noise calling him a _fucking twat_ if he wakes Alex up at seven am on the weekend and he doesn’t come home ridiculously drunk on a _Tuesday_ after a night clubbing with the _lads_. He likes all of Alex’s friends therefore he doesn’t mock any of them next day during a greasy breakfast. Alex loves the same type of music Harry does, so he never complains when Harry puts it on the car and he doesn’t change it to the newest pop hit.

God, how Harry hates himself and the world and Louis right now. The only person he doesn’t hate is Alex. And he wishes his 10 month boyfriend would be enough – he wishes he could feel the same shiver in his spine he feels with _him_ when he kisses Alex. He doesn’t. The last couple of hours just proved him that.

And the thing is, as cliché as it seems, as it _is_ , Alex is not the problem. No. Alex is amazing; he’s perfect, so perfect it’s boring. Harry shakes his head and tries to stop crying. It doesn’t work. He realizes the problem is him. Yes, it is. The problem is Harry, who can’t settle for normal, who thinks normal is just dull, who always wants shiny things. Alex isn’t shiny because Louis is the sun.

He doesn’t know how he ends up on the bed with Alex sitting cross-legged across from him, rubbing circles on his hand trying to soothe him, but he’s there, and he knows he has to start speaking.

“I fucked up so, so bad”, Harry whispers, “and tonight’s _your_ night. I’m sorry.”

“I’m exactly where I want to be, Harry”, Alex tells him. “Now tell me what happened. Please.”

 _At least I’ll have the decency to look you in the eyes_ , he thinks when he lifts his head. Alex doesn’t seem startled; he seems peaceful, but he looks serious nonetheless.

“I saw Louis’ entire family at the after party”, he starts. “They were, like, my family as well. And it hurt. A lot. To see them after so long”, he says. Alex only nods encouraging him to continue. “I mean, the little girls I used to play with in the pool are now teenagers and the teenager I used to protect from boys at fifteen is now going away for college and I-”, he breathes so he doesn’t cry anymore, “I felt like there was a hole in me? But- like, not there, but for the last couple of years? And I ignored it, and then I was with them and the hole was filled?”

“It’s normal, I guess”, Alex says, “they must’ve missed you too”.

“They did, yeah”, Harry starts after a brief pause. “But Louis hated that I was talking to them. He showed up asking for Lots and-”

“Charlotte?”

“Yes”, Alex nods so Harry keeps talking, “and when he saw me there talking to them I just… I knew he was hating it. So at some point he left, like, kinda running?! And Jay- his- his mom, she just looked at me and I went after him.”

Alex squeezes his eyes shut like he just _knows_ what’s coming, which makes Harry feel bad enough already. He still needs to spit it out. There’s no point in telling anything else. No good’s gonna come from him telling Alex how broken and out of it Louis sounded and how much Harry _knew_ he probably didn’t have the right to feel or act that way, but his instinct was to just hug Louis, because _protect at all costs_ was, still _is_ the only thing in his mind whenever he sees that boy- that man.

“We kissed.” He says then.

Alex doesn’t say anything for a while but his hand stills on Harry’s and slowly but surely he takes it off. He gets them two bottles of water from the mini-fridge and sits on the bed again.

“I think you need to go back to London”, Alex voices finally. “I mean, we’re gonna talk and you’ll either find yourself another room or get back to London, either way we’re not sleeping on the same bed tonight.”

“Alex I-”

            “What do you want, Harry?” Alex asks.

            “I- what?”

            “Do you want me to forgive you? Or do you want me to break up with you?” Blunt. Ok. Harry can do blunt. He just can’t make decisions. “Because, you see, I _can_ do both. I _love_ you enough to do both”, he continues. “People make a big deal out of cheating and they don’t realize it happens all the fucking time. And he’s not your dirty mistresses you’ve been cheating on me after work on Thursdays nights; he’s the guy you used to date, the guy you’ve been trying to forget ever since we met. You kissed him, you told me about it. Now tell me what you want.”

            “You’re not pissed at me?”

            Alex laughs humorlessly.

            “The fuck I’m not pissed at you, of course I am.” _You’re not yelling, Louis would yell and probably throw some stuff at me – WHY AREN’T YOU YELLING?_  “But I’m not surprised”, Harry opens his mouth but Alex doesn’t give him the chance to say anything, “how could I be?”, he laughs again and it goes like a dagger through Harry’s heart – _like Louis’ dagger_ , “I’m not stupid. Hopeful, yeah, but not stupid. When we first started dating you had that look, that scared look because you thought we couldn’t be together since you were in love with him. And when we met him at the supermarket I saw that look again.”

            “But at Nick’s… You said...”

            “Because I know- I thought that’s what you wanted. Even though you’re not there yet I thought… I thought you wanted him to be in the past for us to move forward, I guess. So I believed you’d do it, put him in the past, I mean, I waited, Harry”, he explains.

God, he’s so, so good. _What the hell were you thinking, Harry?_

“I probably should’ve known it was never gonna happen when you refused to revisit your Louis memories, or whatever. You were so reluctant to go to Holmes Chapel that I should’ve known it had something to do with him too”, Alex is almost crying and he still isn’t yelling or hating on Harry, he’s just stating the facts: Harry’s a prick, he not only deceived himself but Alex too in the process. “In the end all it took was for you to see him again and- and here we are.”

He stops to see if Harry wants to say something, but he doesn’t know what he could _possibly_ say or do to deny anything Alex’s just said.

“So, right now, I need to know what you want. Cause I can try and forgive you? Like- we’ll need to set some rules and stuff, but, I can get passed this? I think. But if you want me to break up with you, I can do that too.”

            “I wanted- want it, you know?” Harry confesses. “For us to be together”, he says and takes Alex’s hand again. Alex doesn’t flinch but doesn’t give in either. “I know we’re good together.”

            “You see… I think you told me because you want me to break up with you because you’re too scared to open your _Louis box_ again, which makes you a total dick.” Alex smiles bitterly. “I will, Harry. I will break up with you unless you ask me to stay.”

Harry can’t make himself say what Alex’s hurt eyes are waiting for him to say and that’s pretty much it, _it just kinda happens_. Like everything Louis-related it takes Harry off-guard. One day he’s in a happily-ever-after relationship and in the other his heart’s being torn. One day his heart starts to heal again and in the other he breaks someone else’s.

Alex just stands up and says he’s gonna wait for Harry to pack his things and leave so he can fall asleep. Harry does everything as fast as he can and asks the hotel people to call him a cab to the airport where he already requested his private jet to be set up. Harry doesn’t remember the last time he flew on a company plane.

“ _I_ should’ve known better”, Harry says when he’s about to leave. “I’m sorry.”

“I will forgive you within the next few months. I really don’t hold grudges, you know that”, Alex says. “I’m just sad you had to see him again to realize I’m not enough for you, you know? After I-” he controls some tears, he’s so much better than Harry at that too.

“It’s not that.” Harry doesn’t let him finish.

“But it is, Harry”, Alex argues. “It is that. You do not know what it’s like to feel like you aren’t enough”, he says, “you’re Harry Styles after all and yeah, you got cheated on… But the way he looks at you? You’re the _only_ thing that was ever enough for him. I got that from being 5 minutes around the guy.”

“Thanks for taking care of me”, Harry says in lieu of a better answer and then proceeds to hug him; it’s a light hug – there’s no real intimacy, just… Just a goodbye hug, Harry guesses. “I really _am_ sorry, Alex. I really wanted us to work.”

“Yeah, well…” Alex sighs and caresses Harry’s hair. “At the end of the day I always knew I couldn’t take care of a heart that belongs to another man.”

Harry tightens the hug.

“You are _amazing_ , Alex. _Amazing_. You’ll find someone who won’t be an ass to you, and he’ll be perfect and you’ll rub him in my face just to show me what I’m missing.”

They both laugh weakly at this.

Alex lets him go and kisses his cheek.

“I’ll be okay. And when you forgive him, you’ll be okay too.”

 _And when you forgive him, you’ll be okay too_. Those words never leave Harry’s mind. As he exits the hotel with bloodshot eyes and hundreds of flashes on his face, he just knows his name will be on every damn newspaper the next day, but he can’t find a fuck to give right now.

 

It’s past one in the morning when he lands in London and makes his way to Niall’s flat. He’s still up watching a movie and eating popcorn with beer. He only takes a look at Harry to open his arms and let Harry cry some more under the covers with him – Harry’s taken to the past right then, cause there were countless nights where Harry would sneak into Niall’s bedroom to just hug and cuddle and listen to the blond guy tell him everything would be okay one day.

It seems like Niall’s remembering the same thing, cause when Harry’s just about to drift off to sleep, Niall turns off the TV and says:

“We’re not there yet, you know”, he whispers. Harry hums something that sounds like “ _where?”_ or at least he hopes so and Niall replies. “The okay part”, he says. “The okay part is about to come, I promise.”

 

 

Harry hated Modest’s office more than he hated anything. Actually, the only thing Harry hated at the moment, apart from his management, was Louis. And since he was inside a Modest office _with_ Louis, things were about to get pretty bad.

“So, it came to our knowledge that you guys broke up”, suit number one said with a spark in his eyes.

Harry didn’t answer. He was two steps from Louis and he wanted to puke.

They had a show at night, the first show after Harry had found out about everything and of course nobody in that office cared about how he was feeling, they just wanted to know if he could handle being on stage. He said he could.

“Are you sure, Styles? Or are you going to stare at him from long distance mourning your loss?”

“Shut up”, Louis said before Harry could answer. “Honestly, do not make this worse if you don’t want me to drop this fucking band right now.”

“Oh”, suit two laughed, “this is so funny. This _fucking band_ with its _fucking management_ is the only thing holding you together right now, Tomlinson. Keep your sassiness to educate your future kid and listen”, he said seriously. Harry could feel Louis flinching but still refused to look at him. “You are going to be at your happiest at every damn concert from now on. And you too, Harry”, Harry only nodded. “I just want us all to be in the same page: Harry’s closet door is kind of opened, Louis is still as straight as an arrow, and we’ll wait a while to confirm the baby, but we will.”

“Is that it?” Harry asked. “Can I go?”

“Yes, you can”, suit two assured him. “Nice to talk to you as always.” Harry snorted a laugh with disgust and moved to leave the room. “Tomlinson, we still need to go over some things with you.” Harry was ready to get out, but Louis pulled him by the hem of his shirt.

“What?” Harry asked.

“I- I’m sorry”, he said. “I love you.” Cause those were the only sentences Louis was able to say to him at the time.

 _I’m sorry too_ , Harry would always reply. But this time he just turned his back and left him to deal with papers.

 

That night he was glowing. Thank God.

For a couple of days he got extremely preoccupied he wouldn’t be able to perform anymore, that everyone was going to see right through his face how hurt he was. But no. Right then Harry found out that even if he couldn’t be healed, he could be numb for that hour and a half on stage.

He wasn’t lying to Modest’s suits when he said he’d be able to avoid Louis during the shows. Apart from the occasional – very, very occasional – look and polite conversation for fan-service, he avoided Louis at all costs, which sucked, because Louis was doing the _complete_ opposite.

They were side by side during a lot of songs on this tour, including _eighteen_. Harry tried to interact as much as he could with the audience during it – even before they started fighting – because the only thing that came to his mind was Ed Sheeran telling him _why_ he had written it.

 

“H, d’you remember when you told me about your first day living with Louis right when you moved to London?” Ed had asked him balancing two boxes of pizza and a six-pack of beer entering the studio.

Harry got up from the couch to help him and before he could say _yes, mate, I remember_ , Ed just continued.

 “I was in the line for the pizzas and there was this guy meeting the girl’s family for the first time, and he said he’d take care of her and all I could think about was _Harry told me about Louis telling Anne he’d take care of him_ , and that Louis used one of those cheesy sentences, like, _my arms were made for holding him_ that made your mom _melt_. Then I thought, ‘this shit could be a line for a song’. So I got in the car and started writing”, he looked for something in his pocket and a crumpled paper came out of it, “here”, he gave it to Harry. “Think it’s good for the band and- like, if it’s not, you can always sing it to Lou”, he said sitting on the couch as well. “Sorry the pizza’s a bit cold now”, Ed apologized like he hadn’t just written the theme song for Harry and Louis’ wedding.

 

            Eighteen was a curse for the better half of 2015. It had always been a difficult song for him, but he would’ve managed to go through it just fine, if it hadn’t been for Louis piercing him with his damn blue eyes every time he sang _I have loved him_ instead of _you_. If it hadn’t been for Louis telling him, every night right after the concert ended _“I meant it, Hazza”_.

He wakes up with this song in mind and a smell of coffee coming through the door so he imagines Niall’s already up. He does not know if it came from a dream or if his subconscious is telling him that _yeah_ , all you’ve ever wanted was _to be loved and to be in love_. He just looks for his phone on the nightstand and puts on his earphones, going through his iTunes gallery and looking for the album he hasn’t listened to since he last performed it.

            Till this day Harry doesn’t know how he managed to go through the OTRA tour. Between Zayn leaving the band and him leaving Louis because Louis _cheated on_ him, he thinks he did a pretty good job at not dying or anything as dramatic. Some things, when looked at from a distance, seem just so _impossible_ to have been lived, but then a few years later you look back and the memories of being so damn hurt are just it: memories from being hurt.

             So he starts questioning himself – is he really still hurt or is the memory from being in pain what bothers him? Does his heart still ache because Louis cheated on him or is it just used to being broken? Harry decides that 1) the memory of being hurt is bigger than being _actually_ hurt, 2) his heart still aches because Louis cheated on him, it just aches even more because he hasn’t been able to forgive him and 3) he needs to stop avoiding the pain thinking that that’s healing.

            In this morning Harry decides to embrace the pain as his. He owns it. And because he owns it, he can finally begin to let it go.

 

-

 

 

 

            Louis wakes up to Harry’s voice.

And then he realizes he’s on a plane and Zayn’s shaking him and Harry’s voice gets distant as his friend takes the headphones off of Louis’ head.

They’re just getting to Los Angeles to the VMAs and the only reason Louis is there (because he had changed his mind about going) is because both Liam and Zayn dragged him out of England claiming he could not be on the same soil as Harry for at least a week. “ _You need distance_ ”, Liam said, even though what Louis truly needs is to _see_ Harry and ask him what the fuck happened that night in Paris.

 

Right before landing at LAX Louis decides August is the strangest month of his life since his first month being a dad. In the space of thirty days so many things happened that he’s just glad the month’s ending and he gets to see Stella again in a couple of days.

            He can’t get _Paris night_ out of his mind and he hasn’t focused on work ever since – not that it has been that long, it’s been barely a week. After they left that bathroom, he went to talk to Jay. He didn’t even have to tell her what had happened cause his mouth was swollen and his hair messed up and his eyes _confused_ , so confused.

            _“I don’t know where to go from here, mum”,_ he confessed. She told him she’d seen Harry for fifteen minutes, hugged him for a few seconds and he hadn’t changed. Not a single bit. Louis needed to fight for him if he wanted Harry back.

 

            Louis wants Harry back – he just doesn’t know _how_ to do it. He spent the last few years believing that he’d never be able to _touch_ Harry again, let alone _have_ him. He still doesn’t believe he _deserves_ Harry or that Harry will actually go back to him, but at least he _knows_ there’s still something in there. He _knows_ for a fact Harry wants him and it has nothing to do with what he says, but with how his arms held him tight when they were pressed together, how he shivered when Louis put his hands in his hair and how he sounded in every little whine during that kiss. If Louis had nothing, he now has hope.

 

            The whole Award Ceremony is boring and predictable. There’s Katy Perry pretending to be friends with Taylor Swift on stage and then there’s her shading people on the microphone. There’s Miley Cyrus trying to make a statement and failing on it – in his opinion – and there’s Zayn performing a song Louis’ heard a hundred times already, but people go crazy for it and he’s thankful. He gives an interview with Liam afterwards and they all go their separate ways – Liam and Sophia go have dinner together, Zayn goes to the after party and Louis gets back to his hotel.

            He looks at Los Angeles from above and it’s just so weird. It’s been forever since he stayed there and the city is still the same – hot, and beautiful and peaceful. It’s nice to see how things have changed drastically to him but LA is still as impeccable as ever, much like Harry himself; _that’s why he belongs here_ , Louis thinks.

            Not really sleepy, he takes his iPad to read some stuff before bed. He checks the repercussion of Zayn’s performance that night and some fans celebrating 5SOS’s win for Song of the Summer. He then proceeds to scroll through his twitter feed. He must admit he’s been better at communicating with people; it’s been ages since he last checked his account, but at least he always posts pictures of Stella on Instagram – a habit he only acquired after many fans insisted.

Speaking of fans, he follows many, so he’s not surprised when he sees things about Harry. He _is_ surprised when he checks an article from four days before from Yahoo Celebrity UK talking about Harry’s possible break up, because, _what the actual fuck?_

            Louis totally doesn’t click on it. And he doesn’t see pictures of Harry leaving a hotel in Paris crying wearing the same clothes he wore when he was kissing him. More than anything, he doesn’t call Harry Styles when he knows it’s barely six am in London.

 

            Harry picks up after the third call and his _voice_ when he says _hello_ has Louis burying himself in the mattress and covering his head with the pillow. _GOD, I LOVE YOU_ , Louis thinks.

            “Lou?” Harry asks a bit uncertain, Louis needs to remember how to speak in order to answer.

            “Hi”, he says weakly, “I’m in LA”.

            “Oh”, Harry still sounds so asleep. Louis wants to cry. He’s missed his morning voice, even if it’s through the phone. “Why are you calling me?”

            “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

            “No, I mean, yeah, but it’s- ok. I guess.”

            “I- hm, I was on the internet and- well, there are, like, pictures of you”, he starts like an idiot, of course, “well, yeah, there’s always pictures of you but. In Paris”, Harry makes a noise and Louis knows he doesn’t have to say a lot more. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

            “Didn’t what, Louis?”

            “Tell Alex”, he says, “about, hm, about the- you didn’t tell him, did you?”

            “When are you coming back to London?” Is what Harry says.

            “Friday. I’m going to New York to see Stella, since I’m here and all.”

            “You never called her Star.” Harry remembers.

            “I couldn’t.” _Not when it’d remind me so much of you._ He wants to cry. That’s not where this conversation was supposed to be going. “Hm, Harry.” He tries to bring the attention to the main subject.

            “Saturday then”, Harry replies. “Or Friday night, depending on”, he coughs, “we can like, meet and”, he coughs again, “talk”.

            “Are you sick?” Louis asks out of instinct.

            “A bit”, he answers.

            “Ask Niall to get you some Benylin for the cough and hm- you should sleep with your clothes on for a couple of nights”, he says without thinking, because taking care of Harry is basic instinct: it doesn’t go away just because you don’t practice it often.

            “How d’you know I’m at Niall’s?”

            “Liam.”

            “Oh. Y-yeah I’ll… I’ll ask him to go to the drugstore. As for the clothes…” More coughs.

            “It was a shot in the dark anyway”, Louis says and they laugh.

Harry _never_ sleeps with clothes on. He used to wear underwear when they slept at Louis’ family house in Doncaster because of the girls, but it was like torture to him. Whenever he was sick, or it was really cold, he’d just have Louis wrapped around him and a thin blanket on them.

“So”, Louis breathes after the laughter dies, “will you- will we, hm, meet up and talk then? On Saturday?” Louis asks. “I’ll land pretty late on Friday”, he completes.

“Yeah, we can do that.”

“Will you tell me what’s in your mind then?” He asks before he can control himself. “I mean, of course you don’t _have to_ , I just- I’m in the dark? And, like, I don’t know. Sorry.”

“We’ll talk, Lou”, Harry says like Louis doesn’t die a hundred deaths every time he listens to him saying _Lou_.

“Okay, hm, I- hm, thanks”, Louis says, “thank you for talking to me”.

“Go to sleep. Goodnight, Louis”, Harry says in the softest of voices and Louis yawns.

“Morning, Hazz”, and hangs up.

He knows nothing is fixed and there’s a long way ahead, but _there is a way_ , and it’s more than he could ever ask for, so he falls asleep thanking God, the universe and all its stars for having at least a chance to have Harry in his life again – anyway he can have that boy, he’ll take him.

-

 

Louis swears that Stella gets bigger day by day cause it hasn’t been a month yet and he can already see the changes in her. Liam and Sophia insisted to get a hotel nearby, but he’s at Briana’s first thing in the morning when they land in NY at about eight thirty. He goes to her room and watches her until ten am, when he figures is a good enough time to wake her up.

It’s a Monday and she should be at daycare right now, but Briana told him since he’d be there to look after her, for the next few days she didn’t need to go, and she let her sleep in. Louis is grateful.

“Hey, baby”, he starts, caressing her blonde hair out of her forehead and kissing it, “wake up, my love”, he says.

She moves and tightens her tiny hands around a new stuffed animal. Like Louis, she gets bored easily. She still hasn’t found _the_ teddy bear, so she just jumps from one to another. Louis likes it.

            “Star”, he tries it out for the first time. It sounds good. It sounds right. “Open your eyes, honey, mommy’s cooking breakfast.”

            “Papa?” She asks blinking rapidly, “Papa?” She then smiles.

            “Hello, baby”, he smiles down at her. She surprises him jumping out of the mattress and hugs him tight, pulling him down on top of her. Louis hits his forehead on the headboard in the process. “Auch”, he laughs.

            “You’re here!” She says excitedly. “Mum not tell me!”

            “She didn’t tell you to surprise you”, he explains, “you get me for four sleeps, okay? _And_ ”, he adds before she can say anything, “you get to skip daycare too, unless you want to go, in which case it’s perfectly fine.”

            “So happy, papa”, she tells him. He tells her he is happy too – and he is – and picks her up from the bed, taking her to the kitchen where Briana’s chopping fruits Louis barely recognizes. “Mama, he’s here.”

            “Good morning, honey”, she says kissing her cheek, “yes, papa’s here.”

            “You not told me!” She complains and sits by her side.

            “ _Didn’t tell_ ”, Briana corrects. “And it was a nice surprise, wasn’t it?”

            Stella seems to ponder for a while and nods, saying that _yes_ , it was a nice surprise and she’s really happy to be there.

            “Are we correcting her already then?” Louis asks.

            “Verb tenses, mostly”, Briana explains conversationally, “I’d like for her to reach her fourth birthday with acceptable grammar already”, she jokes.

            “We have eight months till then.”

            “And lots of work”, Briana laughs. “How are things, Lou, everything okay?”

            “Yeah, things are… Getting better.” He tells her truthfully and proceeds to _her_ life and her job and her anything so he doesn’t have to mention Harry. It works on the first day. They eventually talk about it, because she asks, because she’s a good friend and is worried about him, and he tells her as much as he can without compromising Harry.

            When Louis tells Stella that Liam and Sophia are in the city too, she jumps from her kid’s chair at the table and runs to her room. When she comes back, she has a _bat-girl_ costume in hands and asks _plese papa plese take me to see uncle leeyum_ _and the baby_. It takes Louis and Briana twenty minutes to explain to her that the baby is still in Sophia’s belly.

            On Thursday they stay in and paint a lot. Liam and Sophia drop by and spend the afternoon with her, so Louis goes out and sees some acquaintances around, coming back to Briana’s in time for dinner.

            On Wednesday Stella is bored during lunch and they go out. They walk around the Central Park zoo and many people stop Louis; when he tries to say “I’m sorry I can’t take a picture now” Stella just smiles brightly and says _picture papa, picture_. He takes the pictures more for her than for the fans – but nobody needs to know.

 

            “Papa, is ok if Stella goes to school tomorrow?” She asks right before bed.

            “Of course, peanut, you wanna go to daycare tomorrow?”

            “ _School_ ”, she corrects him with a frown. He smiles.

            “D’you wanna go to school tomorrow?”

            “Yes, but only if you not sad.”

            “I’m not going to be sad, love”, he assures her. “I’ll wake you up and take you tomorrow okay?”

            “You take Stella to school tomorrow?” Her eyes brighten. He nods. “Tank you!”

            “You’re welcome, sweetie, now sleep time, okay?”

            “Tay”, she says and Briana only enters the room to say goodnight to her, leaving Louis to tell the bedtime story.

Louis is sure she’s asleep when she calls him again. “Papa?” She speaks and yawns at the same time. It’s adorable.

“Yes?”

“I liked you call me Star”, she says. He called her star on the first day.

“You did?” He doesn’t even have the strength to correct her verb tense.

She nods. “Mama told I stars shine.”

“ _Me_.” He chokes out. He’s only kind of emotional. He’s an idiot.

“Told me. Stars shine.”

“They do, baby”, he agrees with her. “And so do you.”

“Night, papa, lobe you.”

“Night, Star, love you too.” He says and kisses her forehead.

 

-

 

Louis texts Harry as soon as he lands in London. It’s late and he doesn’t expect Harry to answer but he does. They agree to have lunch, but _“where?”_ Harry asks.

 _“Idk, better not be somewhere too public”,_ he answers. The last thing they need is a bunch of cameras pointed at them. They’re good at hiding, did that for the better part of their lives, for their entire relationship.

_“I’d say come to Niall’s but idk if he’ll be here and feels wrong to ask him to get out of his own flat.”_

_“You can come here, if you want, you know.”_ Louis says _here_ because he can’t say _our_ house, but not a chance in hell he’s saying _my_ house either. He either avoids it or calls it _the house_ on the rare occasions he needs to mention it.

 _“Ok.”_ Harry replies and Louis thinks it’s the end of it, so he leaves his phone and goes into the shower. He’s in need of a good wank and then a nice night of sleep. He gets the first part done and when he lies in bed he realizes there’s another text in there.

_“And please don’t cook, ha.”_

Saturday is going to be… Interesting. But for the first time in a long time, Louis doesn’t feel like jumping off of a cliff.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! Thanks for all your kudos and comments so far, they mean the world to me.
> 
> If you're angry about the Halex situation: Alex is going to be FINE, it's not the end for him in this story - and I love him too. Harry was wrong to cheat, yes. But it's Louis and, unfortunately (or not!), all exceptions are made in his heart.
> 
> All the love as always, xx.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this took me longer than expected. I was feeling kind of uninspired this week :/
> 
> (Happy birthday @missdesaster. May our squad never die.)

           

Louis had never hated his hair so much like he was hating at that moment – always too straight (oh, the irony) and falling on his eyes. He didn’t like his clothes either. He was a nerve-wreck, cause Harry was going to be there at any minute. Harry. He was going to have a date with Harry.

“Mate, you’re shaking”, Stan said.

Louis had dragged him with him to the restaurant since he was visiting in London. Stan promised to stay there until Harry arrived, just in case the boy decided to not show up.

“I can’t stop it”, Louis confessed.

He had met Harry a while ago in a fucking bathroom of all places. He hadn’t even seen Harry perform, but one look at the boy and Louis already knew he was talented, so after the awkward “oops” from Harry followed by a shy “Hi” on Louis part, the only thing he could think of to keep the conversation going was to say _I saw you perform, dude, you’re going to be star. Can I get your autograph now?_

He also had no idea they would end up in the same band, sharing a room and much more for many months.

By then Louis already knew he had a preference for boys, he wasn’t stupid – but he wasn’t expecting to be attracted to his younger band-mate. Fate seemed to have other plans though, because every time sixteen year old Harry sneaked into his bed to talk until sunrise with his head rested on Louis’ chest he could swear his heart skipped a few beats.

 

So there he was waiting for Harry at a restaurant slash club after he finally gathered the courage to ask him out. It wasn’t like they weren’t flirting like hell already. Nobody believed them when they said they hadn’t kissed yet. “ _It’s so clear you’re sticking dicks to each other’s asses_ ”, Niall would impolitely say every time they were watching a movie together.

But they weren’t. They weren’t even close to that yet. Louis was well aware that Harry was two years younger and innocent and amazing and deserved the world – he wanted to discover things with him, and not just take anything for himself. He was screwed.

 

“Think you’re gonna be fine, Lou”, Stan reassured him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, you think?” Louis asked.

“There’s your boy”, Stan pointed to the entrance, Harry was looking around for him and Louis raised a hand. “I was going to wish you good luck, but you know what?” Louis waited for him to complete. “Something tells me you’re gonna be just fine.”

Stan got up from the table and greeted Harry as he left the restaurant. Louis could see Harry shyly stopping for a picture and smiled at him from distance. They were at that phase in life that they weren’t exactly super famous, but they were promising – so people took pictures with them cause _maybe in the future_ they could say they had met those boys. It was kinda ridiculous, if you asked Louis’ opinion.

The waiter approached Louis at the same time Harry reached the table.

“Hey, Lou”, Harry smiled sitting across from him. “Evening”, he smiled charmingly as ever at the waiter.

“Hi, Hazz”, Louis replied.

“I just came to ask if you want something to drink or eat…”

“Oh, yeah, sure”, Louis turned his attention back to the waiter and they placed their orders. Harry’s smile was worth the world and it was difficult for Louis to focus on anything but it.

The first ten minutes passed slowly – they were making small talk and Louis wanted to bury his face in a vase so embarrassed he was. _Maybe_ that was how all first dates went, yeah, but _maybe_ he was the problem.

“Louis”, Harry called him once they started eating. “Why d’you look like you’re gonna pass out at any given moment?” Harry tried not to laugh, Louis could tell he really did, but he failed.

“I’m nervous, I guess”, he confessed.

“But- why?”

 “Cause I really like you?!”

"Good, I really like you too”, Harry smiled and put the fork down to take his hand. “Don’t freak out on me, please”, he said making small circles with his thumb on Louis’ hand. “It’s just me, Lou.”

“There’s nothing _just_ about you”, Louis replied shyly.

“If I tell you that it took me three days to pick these clothes will you relax?”

“What- really?” He laughed.

“Really”, Harry laughed amusedly. “And you’ve seen me in pants and messy hair at ass o’clock in the morning, so. Maybe I’m freaking out too?! I guess.”

“Oh God, we’re a pair of freak outs”, Louis laughed too, expression softening. His face did weird things around Harry, some emotions he couldn’t even recognize.

“Guess that makes us perfect, then”, Harry concluded.

“Guess it does”, he smiled. “By the way, your messy morning hair is your best look.” Harry blushed. He _blushed_. And Louis was gone for him.

 

They finished eating exchanging little pieces of information about their families and lives before the X Factor and then they moved to the bar. Louis used his ID to get them some drinks and they danced a bit. Eventually the manager asked if he could take pictures of the both of them for the wall. It seemed like no problem at the time – but they listened _so much_ because of it later on.

(People picked up on it and suddenly management was making their lives a living hell due to their careless attitudes – they couldn’t _care less_ and as if to prove a point, a while later Harry tattooed 17BLACK – the name of the restaurant/club –  on his skin. Louis followed later on with a Deer on his arm – which was the logo of the place. Just one of the many complementary tattoos they would have in the future.)

 

“Why was Stan there earlier?” Harry asked when they left the restaurant.

“I think we’ve stablished I was nervous”, Louis rolled his eyes, “he was there just in case you decided not to show up”, he confessed taking Harry’s hand.

The street was empty at that time of the night and Harry pulled him in a corner, resting his back on a wall and pulling Louis by the waist so he was in front of him.

“And why would I do that?” Harry smiled, lifting one of his hands to Louis’ face, caressing his cheekbone like it was the most precious thing in the world. “This is-”, Harry started like he wasn’t sure of what to say. “This is it, Lou.”

“What?”

“I don’t mean to freak you out even _more_ or anything but… _You’re_ it.” He shrugged. Before Louis could even open his mouth, he continued. “We work together and- and if the future is, like, as bright as it seems… We’ll be working together for a long time”, they both grinned at the thought, “so, I would never, like, go on a date with you if I- if I didn’t think we could, you know, _work_.”

“Oh.”

He was right. Louis hadn’t thought about it. He was older but definitely not wiser. Moving forward, they either needed to be together _together_ or simply friends, cause nobody wanted bad blood among the boys. And at that point they had _no_ idea how _together_ they would actually have to be to face all of the adversities that would come their way, but even then Louis realized he was willing to fight.

“You’re barely 17, Hazza”, he tried to reason. “I’m barely nineteen. What if you- I don’t know, what if you meet someone?”

“Well, what if _you_ meet someone?”

Louis didn’t even need time to think. “You’re my someone”, he confessed. God, he was a sap.

“It’s settled then”, Harry smiled and leaned forward, “you’re my someone too, Lou”, and Louis kissed him; on the corner of their first date restaurant, against a wall, in the shadows – the biggest cliché that could ever happen for two teenagers.

It was sweet and slow and kind of unsure at first. Harry had both of his arms around Louis’ neck and Louis pressed closer, gripping Harry’s waist and when he finally asked permission to deepen the kiss, Harry opened his mouth eagerly, proving to Louis that that _was_ , in fact, the best kiss of his life. It had little to do with technique and everything to do with Harry.

“We’re it”, Louis murmured against Harry’s lips.

There was nobody else for him. There still isn’t.

 

He’s now as nervous as he was that night almost ten years ago. He’s already changed clothes twice and the house couldn’t be cleaner – and Louis _hates_ to clean the house.

His phone vibrates on his wood beside table and he checks to see it. Harry says he’ll be there in ten minutes. _Ok, you have ten minutes to_ not _throw up_ , he tells himself. This time there’s no Stan there to calm his nerves. He considers calling him or Zayn for a pep talk, but then he gives up. Unless Harry’s told anybody he’d be going there, nobody knows they’re meeting to talk, and as ridiculous as it may seem, Louis is kind of happy they have this small secret to share.

He goes downstairs and turns on the radio, some country song is playing and he doesn’t know the artist – _as long as it isn’t Taylor Swift_ , he thinks and laughs loudly. He still has a slight distaste for the woman.

He paces. He drinks water and paces for ten whole minutes. And then the doorbell rings.

 

Louis was expecting anything but Gemma Styles. Her hair is short and blond, but apart from that she looks exactly the same.

“Hi, Louis”, she smiles creepily.

“Hi”, he says.

“Gems, really?” Harry laughs from behind her. “Hi, Louis”, he says in much softer tone than her sister.

“Hey, Harry”, Louis smiles before he can help it. “You guys wanna come in?” He asks trying to hide the nervousness in his voice. It’s just so, so weird. Years ago Harry would’ve been inside with him either opening the door for Gemma or just waiting for her to come in, cause she used to have a key for when they were out of town.

“She’s not coming in”, Harry says pointedly and rolls his eyes.

“Ookay?” Louis says. Asks. He doesn’t know.

“I was at her place and she gave me a ride, no idea why she got out of the car to be honest.” Harry explains.

“I just wanted to see Louis”, she answers Harry still staring at Louis. “I have no idea of what you two are doing, but if Harry ends up hurt again I swear to God I am going to kill you. Mum stopped me last time, but she won’t now.”

“Gemma.” Harry reprimands her.

“No I-”, Louis starts nervously, “Anne shouldn’t have stopped you last time”, he tells Gemma. “But there won’t be a next time, Gems.” He assures her.

Harry takes in a sharp breath as if he weren’t expecting it. Apparently, neither was Gemma, because she widens her eyes and opens her mouth to say something, but closes it three times before she gets a word out.

“Okay”, she says finally. “Call me if you need me to pick you up, knobhead”, she tells Harry ruffling his hair.

“Okay, mom- oops, Gemma.” Harry jokes.

“Ha-ha, very funny”, she smiles and then kisses his cheek. “Bye, Louis”, she turns to him and smiles too, and Louis wants to hug her so, so bad. So he does. Everyone’s surprised, but she goes easily.

“Nobody’s getting hurt, I promise”, he speaks very low.

“You’d better mean it”, she answers and tightens her arms around him.

“Missed you”, he’s not sure Harry hears it, but he hopes not, because this isn’t intended for him. Louis truly misses Gemma. " _Miss_ you”, he corrects himself.

“And whose fault is that?” She asks getting out of the hug. Louis looks down. “Bye, boys”, she says loudly and walks towards the car. Both of them wait until she leaves to look at each other again.

There’s this uncomfortable silence for less than five seconds, and then Louis exhales a small “Hi”.

“Oops?” Harry asks. Louis wants to die. “Sorry, I had to.”

“Sure”, Louis rolls his eyes fondly and gets out of the way, inviting Harry in.

While he replays the first time they met in his head, Harry looks around their living room. There’s no point in Louis trying to say it’s not _theirs_ anymore because it is always going to be his _and Harry’s_ – that’s the main reason he was never able to leave the place. And Harry just blends in with everything. Even with the small changes Louis has done, he still fits right in.

“Wow”, Harry then says and sits on the couch. Their couch. “God.” He cradles his head in his hands and takes three deep breaths.

“You okay?” Louis asks hesitantly.

“I don’t think it was a good idea to, hm, come here.”

“We can go somewhere else if- if you don’t want to, erm, be here.” _Even though I want you here again so much. Forever._

“I thought you would’ve changed everything by now”, Harry confesses. “I mean, I could barely”, he lets out a humorless laugh, “I locked up everything that reminded me of you back in LA. I replaced all the furniture in my room and the TV room and the living room… And here you are”, he says looking at Louis now. “Same color scheme, same couch and same bookshelf _with the same books_ ”, Harry almost cries. “I- the only different thing here is the TV. And oh, the pictures.”

Louis has a new TV because he accidently broke the glass of the old one. And by accidently he means one day he got really drunk and started to watch X Factor footage and at some point he threw a bottle of vodka at the screen. And the pictures are mostly Stella’s. There’s one of his family and one with Liam and Zayn the day Zayn signed with 78 Productions.

“How could you-”, Harry starts, “how did you manage?” He looks around as if being there is painful. And it is, Louis must agree. Still…

“I never…” Louis walks towards the couch and silently asks for permission to sit. Harry just nods. “It was never my intention to- like, let you go? I guess.” He shrugs and he can see the question marks in Harry’s green eyes. “It makes sense what you did, you had to, like, forget me, or whatever”, _c’mon, Louis, you won’t cry_ , “but while you were doing that, I was holding on tighter than ever”, Louis tells him, “we had different ways to deal with it, and- and it worked.”

“It didn’t.” Harry tells him and then throws his head back, resting it on the back of the sofa. “Not for me.”

Louis doesn’t know what to say. It’s almost one o’clock now.

“Shouldn’t we, like, eat before…?”

“Can we have burgers?” Harry asks before Louis finishes.

“What?”

“Burgers, for lunch. Can we- like, order McDonalds’ burgers and fries and cokes? The large ones?”

“Are you”, Louis laughs, “are you for real? You want fast food for lunch? You? Harry Styles?”

“Yes”, Harry smiles and his eyes brighten up like he wasn’t almost crying talking about their break up less than a minute ago. “Please?”

“Is that why you wouldn’t let me cook? Cause you want burgers?”

“Well-”, he stops to think, “no. I thought I could cook? For us, I mean. But now I just- too many memories for one day, I suppose. And I really miss eating greasy stuff.”

“Honestly, Harold”, Louis starts picking up his phone to call McDonalds not even realizing how fondly he said one of Harry’s oldest nickname, “if you cooked in that kitchen today I’d have to send you away to have a breakdown by myself, so, _hello, I’d like to order in_ ”, he says when the attendant picks up.

Harry’s looking at him like Louis’ just confessed murder and Louis just smiles, asking Harry what he wants to eat. “Whatever’s good”, he answers. Louis orders them the same thing but makes sure Harry’s burger comes with lettuce and extra tomatoes.

“Can we have ice cream as well?” Harry asks when Louis is about to hang up.

“In the fridge”, Louis answers him. “ _Cash or card, whatever”_ , he answers the lady who was asking about payment. _“Okay, thanks”_ , and hangs up. “Twenty minutes”, he tells Harry.

“Good”, he smiles happily for the first time since he got inside the house and Louis’ heart warms up. “How was LA? And NY?” He then asks, avoiding the first subject. Louis is thankful – he still needs to learn how to control his emotions. Maybe after their _lunch_ he can form words.

The thing is, it shouldn’t be this easy. Clearly they have a lot in common and they like each other’s company – or did, at some point, in Harry’s case, Louis imagines –, but after so much hurt and so much sadness and sorrow, he just can’t believe they’re talking like normal people.

Louis tells him about the Award Ceremony and how nothing’s changed since their first one at the BRITs, because he, Liam and Zayn still made fools of themselves among rich famous people. He tells him about Zayn’s problems with some upcoming artists and his distaste in giving interviews. “Some things never change”, Harry comments.

Then they proceed to talk about Louis’ company and how he’s been dealing with the business these past few years. He tells Harry about juggling between work and Stella and Harry doesn’t seem to be annoyed by it – he actually asks more questions about Stella and Louis can’t bite his tongue since he’s a ridiculously proud father. For a few minutes it doesn’t even occur to them she’s the result of Louis’ cheating and they chat happily about her mispronounced words and stuff like that. Louis can see in Harry’s eyes how much he still loves kids. His heart’s almost bursting when the doorbell rings again and Louis gets up to answer it.

“Here”, Harry takes out his credit card to give it to Louis, who only rolls his eyes and takes his own wallet.

“I’m not an international superstar anymore, but I can afford McDonalds, I promise”, he smiles and makes his way to the door, “plus”, Louis looks seriously at him, gathering the courage for his next sentence, “it’s gonna take me a lot more than lunch for you to even consider forgiving me.”

Harry only seems to think for a fraction of a second before he replies:

“This is a good start”, he says and steps back so whoever is at the door won’t see him.

Louis opens it and pays in cash, giving a generous tip to the nice guy who delivers their burgers and is only half star-struck by him, cause it must be the millionth time he delivers there. It took him 5 times to ask for a picture and an autograph. Louis kinda likes the guy’s attitude.

They both sit on the floor around the coffee table and open their snacks. Harry looks like a happy kid and Louis stops and stares for a while. He’s wearing a headband much like the one he had during Take Me Home Tour and a black Rolling Stone shirt Louis’ never seen. His eyes are greener and his skin is somehow smoother and Louis wants to put his hands on his cheeks so bad. He refrains and starts eating.

            Harry fucking moans when he eats his hamburger and Louis chokes on his fries.

            “You’ve no idea how long it’s been since I had McDonalds”, Harry says, mouth still full, and then laughs. Louis laughs too. He _is_ still a toddler. No wonder Stella liked him so quickly. “And coke. Soda! Oh my God”, he speaks again, really enthusiastic and takes a huge gulp.

            Louis laughs and they continue to eat in silence, only commenting here and there how good that bad food was and comparing McDonalds and Burger King.

 

            Once they’re finished, Louis takes the trash to throw it in the bin in the kitchen and comes back with a tub of ice cream and two spoons. Harry eats it eagerly, still smiling.

“Where’s crazy fitness healthy Harry and what have you done to him?” Louis asks because he has to.

“Somewhere in Los Angeles living in a glass house”, Harry replies not looking at him.

 “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

 “You ready for the serious talk?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

  “Are you?” He throws back.

 “Will you answer all of my questions with questions?” Harry seems a bit irritated, so Louis doesn’t joke anymore.

 “I am ready.” _Lie_. He isn’t. But Harry deserves him to be. Harry deserves everything. “Why were you living in a glass house, Harry?”

 “Ok, hm- I-”, he makes himself comfortable on the hug and rests one arm on the sofa while the other is still busy with eating ice cream. Now Louis thinks it’s because he’s nervous and not really because he wants to eat it. Harry was never one to eat his feelings away. Weird. “I ran”, he shrugs. “When you cheated on me, I ran. I started running and I just never stopped.”

“Should I- like- say something? Or will you elaborate?”

“After we split- we, the band, not you and I- I asked you to leave Los Angeles. That was wrong and I’m sorry. Your _daughter_ was there and I-”

“HEY, no”, Louis stops him. “Don’t do that, don’t. Do not apologize for anything, please, you can’t be that good. I mean, I know you are just- please don’t be?”

“But I-”

“Harry.”

“That wasn’t me, Louis”, he says. “Okay, you were wrong and yes you hurt me like hell, but we should’ve talked back then. I should’ve let you apologize and I should’ve, I don’t know.”

“We did talk, a lot. Back then.”

“Not really. I just insulted you and you took it.”

“You never said anything I didn’t deserve”, Louis shrugs. “We do irrational things when we’re hurt.”

Harry just nods and continues. “After the band split and we all went our separate ways, I kind of went off the rails, one would say. Eventually Jeff called my mom and she went to LA to convince me to go into therapy.” Louis is really surprised now. He wants to get closer and hug Harry and apologize a gazillion times. But he just listens. “That’s how I went back to music, really”, he tells him.

“I packed everything that belonged to you, as I said, and put it in this storage… I told myself I’d call you one day to give it back but it just seemed easier to never touch it again. And then I changed the furniture and all the pictures”, Harry says. “The therapist said that I was blocking you, so I wouldn’t hurt. It worked. But she also said I needed an escape… Something that wasn’t, hm, unhealthy, like alcohol, or drugs, or… I don’t know.”

“I drank”, Louis says, “a lot. But then again I was always the one to make poor life choices”, he snorts.

“I started writing again”, Harry tells him. “Fucking sad and depressing songs, but, still”, he looks at him. “She said the lyrics were good and I should reconsider a solo deal. I signed with Sony two months after. Looking back I guess I never let you go, did I? I mean. I didn’t come back to England; I didn’t see pictures of you or visit our memories. But you were there in every song and I just thought- I thought maybe you would listen to it and know how hurt I still was, but Liam already told me you never…”

“I did”, Louis tells him. “That night, after you left the office. It’s the only thing I’ve been listening to since then.”

“Oh.”

“That day… Even a week ago, Harry, it’d be okay if you had let me go. I would’ve… I would’ve let that happen”, he confesses, “it seemed right that I’d end up alone, like- some kind of punishment for breaking us, but now”, he takes a breath, he doesn’t quite know what he wants to say, he just- he doesn’t know. So he just lets the words out of his mouth hoping they’ll have the right impact. “I’ve been reliving my mistakes for three years now. And I can’t sit here and pretend that it’s okay that you’ve forgotten me cause I will never, can never, forget you.”

Harry’s look is so scared that Louis wishes he could put the words back inside his mouth. It takes him a while to reply. This whole conversation seems to be moving in slow motion.

“I told Alex about the kiss because it wouldn’t be fair to be with him loving you.” Harry finally says. “But even then he was… Amazing, really. He’s an amazing person and I did to him the same thing you did to me and I- I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing that I-l.” Louis is quiet, just waiting for Harry’s next words. “I love you now as much as I loved you last month and seven years ago, Louis. And it’s like a curse because I just can’t trust you-- I guess.”

 _Or forgive me_ , Louis first thinks, but then _I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU_ is the only thing in his mind, because Harry still loves him, in spite of everything.

“I hated you so much during 2016 and 2017…” Harry laughed bitterly. “But I just really, _really_ loved you. And I think-” he pauses for only a second to take a breath, and then looks at Louis again, “and I think what hurts me the most is the fact that I thought you loved me the same way?! And-”

“Stop”, Louis snaps. “Right there.” He doesn’t even recognize his voice at first because it’s so… Harsh. Louis has never been harsh with Harry before. “I’ve _always_ loved you the same way-”, he tells him but doesn’t get to finish.

“Well, do we have different versions of love? Cause, you know.”

Louis doesn’t know how to explain to Harry how much he loves him. He doesn’t have enough words in his vocabulary.

“You know we don’t”, he finally says weakly.

“I don’t know anything”, Harry gets up. “I stopped knowing anything when you slept with somebody else.” He accuses and Louis sees the same expression in his eyes he saw so many years ago. “And since then I- I could never _understand_ what led you to it?! Like- we- I thought we were fine? And then. Fuck.” Harry is pacing. Louis is reliving the day Harry found out about the pregnancy in his head, but somehow he feels worse now. “I thought I was going to die that day- the day I found out. And I thought I was going to die each day that followed.”

Louis wants to say _me too, I wanted to die less than a month ago when I saw you again_ , but it feels wrong to interrupt Harry.

“Do you have any idea what it does to a person? To not feel loved by the one they love the most? Cause Alex told me that I didn’t know but I do know. I’ve _felt_ it. And I never, _never_ did anything for you to feel unloved. Fuck, Louis, I endured two years of closet and stunts cause I was _waiting_ for you to be-- ready, for us to do it together. Turns out you’re _still_ in the closet and- oh wait, are you even gay? Cause maybe it was a Harry-phase thing, maybe after sleeping with a  woman you’ve finally realized that you are, _in fact_ , straight?! Is that it?” He laughs. He laughs and Louis can see the tears coming out of Harry’s eyes and is still unaware of his own.

The worst part is that Harry isn’t even _wrong_. Of course he doesn’t believe Louis loved – still loves – him more than anyone thinks it is possible to love someone, but the rest…

He remembers telling Harry back in 2013 that he couldn’t come out yet, he remembers saying “I can’t do it with you right now” and Harry not even blinking before signing another closet contract. The same in 2014. He remembers seeing Harry miserable because of the stuns they were putting upon them simply because Harry _had been_ allowed to come out but didn’t because of him.

Louis remembers feeling so guilty back then but receiving all the support in the world. He remembers _Anne_ telling him that nobody would hold that against him because forcing someone out of the closet was just wrong and that was _Harry_ ’s choice to wait.

He remembers how happy Harry got when in January 2015 he asked him to marry him and his present – besides a ring – was a new contract saying that they’d be out by the end of that year. He also remembers how he _himself_ destroyed it months later.

 

“Why aren’t you answering me?” Harry asks, almost pleading him to give a feedback.

Louis can’t.

How can he tell Harry that he is very much gay, yes, but he hasn’t been with anyone for three years now? How can he tell Harry he can’t even think about going to bed with another guy because it makes him sick? How can he tell Harry that while he was moving on trying to heal Louis reminisced every night they’d spent together? How can he make Harry believe that he hasn’t come out of the closet because he has no reason to since his love life is inexistent right now?

(It’s not like Louis is hiding, really, but after One Direction ended and Stella was born nobody asked, and according to his rep, to simply answer fans’ questions on twitter (the only people that still cared enough to ask – the loyal and so underappreciated Larry shippers) wouldn’t be a good idea.)

“What do you want me to tell you?” He asks tiredly.

“That you’re sorry?!”

“HOW MANY MORE TIMES?” Louis yelled exasperatedly. “I HAVE LITERALLY RUN OUT OF WORDS, HARRY. I AM SORRY. YOU DON’T WANT TO FORGIVE ME. END OF STORY”, he breathes in and out twice and then continues calmer, “I know you need to get stuff out of your chest and that I deserve to listen to whatever you say, I’m well aware of that, have always been”, he doesn’t even notice he’s making himself smaller on the couch, “so y-yeah, go on”.

“God, I hate you”, Harry whispers running his hands furiously through his hair, taking off the bandana.

“ _You_ were the one to appear in my office, Harry”, Louis reasons. “ _You_ were the one to kiss me. You asked me for space, I gave it to you. You asked to never see me again, I gave it to you. I moved my daughter from the place she was born because that’s what you needed. I- I don’t. I don’t know what else to do. _You’re_ at _my_ place right now.” _Our place. You’re at our place._

“Maybe I should just leave then”, Harry replies with a snort. Louis is getting ready to reply when his phone rings.

It’s a facetime call from Stella and he ponders for a second or two if he should answer it, but he could use a bit of happiness right now.

“One second”, he says and accepts the call.

 _“PAPAAAA”_ , her cheerful voice comes on the phone.

“Hello, my love”, he smiles. It feels weird to smile.

“ _Why you crying papa?”_ She asks tilting her head to one side, brows furrowed.

“I’m not, princess, ‘s just a little dust in my eyes”, he replies right away, cleaning his face with one hand. “What’s up that you wanted to call me?”

Stella doesn’t seem satisfied with the answer she got and doesn’t reply, so Briana comes on camera.

_“Hi, Lou, is it a bad time? I’m sorry.”_

“Hey. Kinda, yeah, but- but not for her”, he says. “Princess, you still there?”

“ _Baby, papa’s waiting”_ , Briana nudges her arm softly, _“I miss you, papa”,_ she then says sadly, her small hand touching the screen _._

His heart literally melts. He doesn’t look at Harry so he doesn’t see him sinking on the couch by his side, but he feels the space deepening.

“I miss you too, sweetie.” She always gets like this right after they see each other. Louis wants to hug her again like it’s been a year. “Hey- hey, don’t cry, love”, he says.

 _“Otay”_ , she sniffs, _“when Stella see you again?”_

“I don’t know, love”, he answers truthfully and it pains him.

 _“Soon?_ ”

“Soon, I promise”, he replies. “I’ll talk to uncle Liam and we’ll sort some dates out, okay?” She nods. “Now tell me good things, wanna hear your voice.”

So she tells him about her day – that is about to begin. She tells him _mum_ ’s gonna take her to a party in the afternoon and that after that she’ll watch the new movies auntie Lottie sent her on the mail – she always feels super important when people _send_ her stuff. She also tells him she needs to know about Sophia’s baby and when it’ll come to play with her and Louis’ eyes widen, cause _Harry doesn’t know yet_. And then it hits him: Harry’s still there.

She complains she’s hungry.

“Maybe you should go get some brekkie, baby”, he reasons.

 _“Yeah”_ , she breathes it out in the cutest way.

They say goodbye, Louis _pinky promises_ they’ll see each other soon – even if he doesn’t know when he’ll be able to leave the label again.

There’s a heavy silence after the call ends. He thinks for at least five minutes before turning his body to Harry and talking to him again. Honesty written all over his face, Louis decides to pour his heart through his mouth – again.

“I regret many things, Harry”, he starts. “I regret cheating on you the most, and I regret sleeping with Briana- especially because I still don’t remember it or _what_ got me into it in the first place.” And it’s true.

Till this day Louis has no idea how he ended up in bed with Briana. How he was even turned on by a woman. But he’s long given up on finding out.

 “I regret not telling you right when I found out. I regret us not coming out together in 2013 cause maybe we’d still be together now”, he shrugs. “But I- I don’t regret Stella for a second. She is my silver lining and my chance at redemption and the biggest source of love I have nowadays. She’s what got me through these past years and she’s still what makes me want to get up every day. I am sorry for everything”, he cries, he really doesn’t want to, but he does. “I’m sorry I ruined us. I’m sorry I ruined our future together. I really miss you and I miss the days we didn’t get to have and I- I miss the days we did have but I- I don’t regret her.”

Harry’s crying too. Louis wants to stop the tape and rewind. He wants to go back to a time neither of them was this hurt and this old – aged by their scars – and this… Unloved.

You see, people always say that being in love hurts, that being in love is hell, that being in love makes you want to die sometimes. But people are wrong. Being in love is the best thing that can ever happen to a person – the best thing that’s ever happened to Louis.

Being in love is being comfortable around someone because you know they’ll love you even more if you’re being yourself. Being in love is waking up and knowing life has meaning. Being in love is being sure that no matter what happens, it’s gonna be fine, cause you have that one person that won’t get you through it all, but will go through it all with you.

Being out of love is what’s terrible. Being out of love is what makes your heart ache. Being out of love is what sucks and hurts the most. _Louis has been out of love for quite some time now_. And so has Harry, he figures. And really, that is their biggest problem: the bubble love is still there, it still exists, it still is as _strong_ as the song itself, they just can’t seem to be in it together anymore.

 

When Harry speaks again, their fight is forgotten. One more reason Louis doesn’t regret Stella. She brings peace. Always.

“You shouldn’t regret her”, he says, “she is amazing”. Louis nods because he knows. “How hard is it? To stay away from her?”

“Hard”, he answers. “I manage.”

“Does it get lonely? Being here by yourself?—I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have-”

“Sometimes, yeah”, he lies. It’s always lonely and it’s always cold unless Stella’s there to make him forget that house was made for two.

There’s a small gap after this brief exchange and then Harry gets up and says he needs to go. Louis doesn’t fight it, he really has nothing else to say and he’s just glad Harry’s done saying things for today. He doesn’t think they’ve made progress at all. He doesn’t want to think anymore though.

He gets up from the couch to walk Harry to the door and it’s the slowest walk the both of them have ever done, he’s sure.

 

“T-thanks for coming”, Louis says as he starts to unlock the door.

“Do you really mean it?” Harry laughs.

Louis shrugs and doesn’t look him in the eyes. “Seemed like the right thing to say.”

“This was a disaster, Louis”, Harry says.

“Still glad we did it.”

“Why?”

“This house has missed you.” _And I have missed you in this house_ , he doesn’t say. “D’you think- like, maybe, we can do it again-- sometime soon? But. Like. I don’t know, I’d say we can talk without fighting? But what is there to talk?” He laughs. “We’re stuck.” Louis then looks at Harry.

“I’d still like for us to do this again if- if you mean it.” Louis nods and hopes he doesn’t look too eager, too teenagey. “Ok”, Harry smiles, a shy but genuine smile. Louis knees weaken.  “Okay- yeah, sometime soon.”

Harry flags a cab and goes home. Louis is so stunned by this whole afternoon he doesn’t even notice the paparazzi across the street, so he can’t anticipate the hell his life is about to become.

 

Louis takes a shower and unpacks (he feels like he’s lived a hundred lives this Saturday and his trip to the USA seems to have happened centuries ago).

He has to meet Zayn and a few of their acquaintances in a couple of hours but he’s not really sure he wants to go, so he just lies on the bed to rest a bit. It’s been an intense afternoon, after all.

It’s eight pm when he takes his phone and there’s a new message lighting up the screen, a Harry message, from less than one minute ago.

 

 _I missed the house too_ , it reads.

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for being late, @anakethllen, but I'm sure it's still your birthday somewhere in the world. Happy life, smol Tommo. I love you.
> 
>  
> 
> DISCLAIMER: the lyrics used in this chapter as Harry's are not his nor mine. But it fits, so just go with it, please! <3

Harry wakes up to a thousand text messages and phone calls from different people – people who haven’t called him in at least a month, including Jeff, Cameron and Ed Sheeran. It’s weird, really, but he chooses to ignore everything until after breakfast because he could really use some food right now.

            He gets to the kitchen to find Niall already making pancakes and his stomach is thankful.

“Morning, mate”, Harry says taking some orange juice from the fridge.

            “Morning, Hazz”, Niall replies smiling brightly. “So, how was it?”

            “How was what?”

            “Your date with Lou, of course”, Niall rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to the frying pan. Harry flinches at the word _date_. It was a _meeting_.

            “How d’you know?” Harry asks curiously. So far the only person who knew about it was Gemma and Louis himself. Unless one of the two had told him.

            “Oh- shit, yeah, that”, Niall replies and looks a bit uncertain when he gets his phone and shows it to Harry. “It’s one of the many”, he shrugs.

            His twitter is opened to one of the various remaining One Direction fan accounts and the girl is hysterical because of the high quality pictures of Harry leaving Louis’ ( _his and Louis’_ ) Primrose Hill mansion. _What the fuck_? He thinks. Or says it out loud, since Niall answers.

            “It’s one of many”, he repeats, “like- people are going wild. There are two trending topics for you guys- I- I’m sorry.” Niall doesn’t sound _that_ sorry, but at least he tries. Harry suspects he’d be trending it as well if he could.

            “How- how is this possible? For us to be trending, I mean.”

            “I don’t think people have ever let go of the idea of you two together.”

            “But why?” Of course the both of them are still famous enough to be talked about by many people. Harry’s well aware he has millions of fans and he’s used to see his name trending every other week. But it’s been literally years since there was something _larry-related_ and he feels dizzy and shocked and. He doesn’t know. “Why haven’t people forgotten this?”

            “Well, you haven’t, so you should ask yourself”, Niall shrugs again and serves Harry some pancake, handing him the chocolate syrup.

            “D’you have maple?” Harry asks still a bit stunned.

            “Yeah”, Niall turns and gets the maple syrup, handing it carefully to Harry, like he’s examining him. “You didn’t know there were paparazzi there, did you?”

            “Of course not, neither did Louis”, he’s sure, because Louis hates paparazzi, so he would’ve let him know or even told him to hide in there a bit longer.

            “Well, that might be a problem.”

            “You tell me”, he huffs out a laugh. “What are your plans for today?”

            “Nothing, mate, just gonna stay in, watch some stuff, you?” He says conversationally, sitting down across from Harry to eat.

            “Scared to go out”, he confesses.

            “How was it yesterday then?” Niall asks genuinely interested. “You don’t have to tell me, you know. But I’d like to help… If I can.”

            Niall’s always been one of Harry’s best friends. Since bootcamp, the yellow-haired-Irish-lad made him smile. Anywhere he went there was happiness and Harry admired that. He’d seen Niall cry twice in his life: when he got the news that Theo was born and when he got into his car in the parking lot of that hotel in Los Angeles, years back, the day the band split. Apart from that, he’s been Harry’s personal source of never-ending joy. Harry loves him to death and never doubted his friendship and loyalty for one second.

            He knows that if there’s somebody to help him right now, without any kind of judgement, that somebody is Niall. He also knows Niall believes in him and Louis more than he and Louis believe in themselves at this point.

            “I honestly don’t know”, Harry starts carefully. “I told him I still love him”, Niall looks up with wide eyes, a spark of hope in there; “I also told him I can’t trust him”.

            “Harry, do you- do you _genuinely seriously think_ that Louis would do anything to betray your trust ever again?”

            “No”, he answers easily.

            “So…?”

            “It’s not rational, Ni. It’s just- there’s this- fear, y’know?” He stuffs his mouth with a huge piece of pancake giving himself time to think. Niall waits. “I have no idea of- like- how can we be okay with each other again? We’re either fighting or literally gagging for each other and when we’re not doing any of that it’s just- normal. Comfortable.”

            “What’s wrong with being normal or comfortable?”

            “It scares the hell out of me cause I can’t be _his_ again”, he cries out. “I’ve worked _so_ hard to be my own person.”

            “You can be you and still his, Hazz.”

            “Only I can’t.”

            “Why not?” Niall asks but it’s rhetorically, because he continues giving Harry zero chances to argue. “I know we used to joke you were- like- one person, but it was never like that. He’s always been Louis, the menace, funny as hell, a leader, a fucking great friend and you’ve always been Harry, unimaginable great human being Harry, alien Harry”, he smiled, they both laughed briefly remembering when a producer gave Harry the nickname cause “ _are you even human?_ ”. Niall continued: “and you just mingled perfectly into this huge symbol of love and- and everything anybody could ever dream of. It was as disgusting as it was beautiful.”

            “ _Was_ being the key word.”

            “It doesn’t have to be. Just because you’ve been hurting for so long doesn’t mean you have to keep hurting. I get it, it’s scary, mate. I truly do and I can only imagine. But is it scarier than never being with him again?”

            “It’s- I.”

            “Think it over, little brother”, Niall gets up and ruffles his hair. “The dishes are yours, I’m gonna shower”, he says and leaves the room carrying his plate.

            It’s _so_ Niall to drop a bomb of a question like that and leave Harry to deal with it on his own. People give him little credit, cause Niall could make a hell of a psychologist.          

            Harry puts on some music while organizing the kitchen and then moves to the living room to start replying texts and some calls. They all have the same content, as expected. People are asking him what the hell happened with Alex, why he was at Louis’, how he is feeling… The whole gossip package.

            He calls Anne as last. She listens to him without interrupting and then says she’s sorry about this mess, she’s gonna miss Alex a bit, she wishes they could have worked things out better. She also says _fucking finally, Harry_ and laughs loudly, telling Robin he and Louis are finally back on track. Harry argues at least five times that no, they aren’t. They don’t even know how to _find_ the track yet, but she doesn’t seem to want to listen to him.

            “Mum”, he calls her name again – she’s still discussing the subject with Robin. His life is a big soap opera.

            “Yes, darling?”

            “Have you forgiven him?” He asks because he needs to know if he’s still the only one who isn’t able to move on from their fall out. He suspects Gemma is over it and only speaks badly of Louis to make him feel better – even if it’s never actually worked.

            Anne was pretty hurt back then. She took it so so so personally, and of course she would, Harry’s her son after all. But maybe it was even harder because she also loved Louis like her own, and her heart broke for three: for her, for Harry and for him.

            “A long time ago, honey”, she says.

            “How?”

            “Oh, Harry… I don’t know, honey, these things- they- they happen. I’m still hurt you got so damn hurt, baby, and this is never going to change. But it’s- life, you know?” She tries to explain. “We get hurt by the ones we love the most cause they’re the only ones who have this power. And they’re as human as we are, which means… Their mistakes could easily be ours.”

            “I would _never-”_

            “You don’t know, Harry”, she says. “I assure you he also thought the same thing”, Anne reasons. “You would _never_ cheat, yeah, maybe, but you could’ve done something else that would hurt him too… And it wouldn’t have been intentionally, but it’d still hurt a lot. That’s the way it is, honey.”

            “But mom…”

            “Louis made a terrible, terrible mistake four years ago, love”, she says, “but he is not his mistake, is he?”

            “I don’t think so, but I-”

            “We are not our problems; we certainly aren’t our mistakes, Harry. I’m not telling you to forgive him just because. I’m telling you to forgive him cause I’ve raised you better than that. This grudge is eating you alive, honey. And it pains me to see it.”

            “I was happy, mom. A month ago, in LA, with Alex, I was happy”, he says, because he believes it.

He closes his eyes and rests his head on the back of the couch and remembers a day by the pool with his ex-boyfriend and a couple of friends and he remembers laughing so hard he fell in the water.

“Why can nobody understand that? Or believe it. I was happy with Alex.”

            “Oh, I never said I don’t believe it, Harry. You were very happy indeed.” She agrees, but he knows there’s more coming. “You were also slowly settling for a life five hundred percent different from the one you’ve always dreamed of, but that’s not here nor there. It’s up to you if you forgive Louis or not, at the end of the day. But if you want me to talk you out of it… You might’ve called the wrong person.”

            “You’re my mom”, he says, “you’re not the wrong person”.

            “Just follow your heart yeah? It knows best. This curly head of yours only gives you headaches.”

            “What if- what if it doesn’t work out?”

            “Oh, honey, but what if it does? Can you imagine?”

            Harry can. A smile spreads on his face without him even realizing it. And that’s the scariest part, isn’t it? How easy it is to smile thinking about a future with Louis when there’s still so much to work on. So much sadness to overcome, so many scars to heal, so much talk to be done.         

He thanks his mom for everything and lets her words sink in while he waits for Niall to pick a film. At some point during the conversation he got to the living room and sat by Harry’s side, just studying his expressions. Niall settles on a comedy they have watched at least fifteen times, but the both of them laugh like it’s the first time.

 

Harry cooks them lunch and Gemma comes to hang out with them. In the evening Alex calls. He’s back in LA and needs Harry to go there because there are some of his things in Harry’s house and he doesn’t have a key.

It’s weird because they’ve dated for ten months – it’s an acceptable time, so he should have Harry’s house keys. Except for the fact that Harry had never let him in completely, had he?

Alex had a toothbrush at Harry’s place and some clothes but that was it. He was always coming and going with his stuff and it had never occurred to Harry to offer more space or any space at all in the house so Alex would feel more at home. Harry’s slowly realizing it never occurred to him to mingle his life, himself, with Alex’s

 

            On Monday night he flies back to the United States. It’s _okay_ to leave London because people didn’t know he was going to the airport, but once he gets to the LAX is total madness. The paparazzi are worse than ever and they’re firing all kinds of questions at him and when he finally enters Jeff’s car, he feels like he’s run a marathon.

            “Told you we should’ve contacted your body guard”, Jeff says as a greeting.

            “Hi to you too”, Harry half-smiles. “Didn’t know it’d be like this.”

            “Well, you kind of messed up in London, didn’t you, H?”

            “Not now, please, Jeff.”

            “Yes, now”, he says, “sorry, man, dad asked me to drive you to the office.”

            “I’m tired, it’s so damn early”, he whines.

            “Sorry”, Jeff says again. “Got you some green stuff though”, he takes a plastic glass and gives it to Harry. There’s a smoothie from his favorite place in town. Harry thanks him and takes a sip. He’s missed it. “So. Are you going to tell me while it’s just us or in front of your entire PR team?”

            “There’s nothing to tell, mate.”

            “Ha, try again.”

            “I’m serious.”

            “You and Alex broke up”, he points. “There’s a fuck ton of pictures of you leaving Louis’ house. Your fans are wild for information. It’s like we’re in February 2015 all over again.”

            “Don’t even joke about it”, Harry laughs and throws his head back.

His One Direction years were crazy. There’s no other word to describe it. It was pure madness. And even though he’s still surrounded by photographers and asked for pictures basically anywhere he goes, it does not compare to having to hide inside cars waiting for the right moment to get out, exiting hotels in bread vans or lying through his teeth about his location to his own friends afraid they might leak it unintentionally.

Maybe, just maybe, all is better because he doesn’t have to hide _himself_ from the world anymore.

“I mean it, though, dude. We did some research while you were there… People are going insane thinking that it has something to do with a One Direction reunion.”

“It doesn’t”, he laughs. “But it was nice to see the guys again.”

“The guys?” Jeff arches a brow.

“Fuck off”, he rolls his eyes.

They get to the Azoff building in less than half an hour, which is amazing given the LA traffic. Harry’s entire team is there and Jeff enters the room with him for moral support. He spends almost three hours talking to them.

Since he agreed to the European tour and voiced how good it was to get back to England, they tell him he can start rehearsals there in the next two months and take this free time to do a round of promo interviews in the biggest cities – such as Paris, Berlin, Stockholm and so on. He agrees easily because he wants it so bad, he’s missed being on stage.

“And then we’ll bring it to the US, yeah?” Miriam asks. She’s this short red-headed lady who never fails to amaze him with good ideas. “I mean, three months in Europe, two months in the US and Canada and then… The rest of the world? While recording your next record, of course.”

“We’ll see?” He asks. “D’you think I can handle this many dates? Isn’t Zayn touring here next year as well? And Ed? I don’t want to- like- compete with them.”

“It’s not a competition, Harry”, Carlos inputs. He’s tall and broad and has Mexican blood. Harry’s as scared as he’s mesmerized by him. “Your numbers are so good it’s unbelievable.”

“That’s good to hear”, he smiles genuinely, “I still think… I mean, I don’t want to…  I’m scared?” He laughs nervously.

“To perform by yourself?” Jeff asks. He nods. “You’ve been doing so well, though.”

“On smaller scales.”

“Yeah, but mate… You were born for it. And your stuff is _so_ good, Harry.”

“He’s right”, Miriam says. “We’re thinking arenas, for a start… The European team agrees.”

“Arenas”, Harry repeats. “I can’t sell out arenas by myself.”

He’s suddenly eighteen in the Modest office hearing about their many consecutive dates at the O2 Arena. It’s the same _this is going to be a disaster_ feeling. But there’s also a funny twist in his stomach. And lightness too, when he realizes he’s not in the Modest office. He’s free.

“You can and you will, Harry”, Miriam smiles at him and he smiles back.

They keep talking venues and tv shows he’d like to go. It’s so different from the last time he’s done this. He can actually _choose_ if he doesn’t want to go on a show he isn’t comfortable with, he himself can review the list of questions people will be allowed to ask him and he can choose how to answer them, and if management doesn’t approve, he just cuts the question off of the “okay” list so he doesn’t need to lie.

            It’s one o’clock when his stomach growls again and everybody laughs in the silent room.

            “Can we take a break?” He asks.

            “We can be done for the day, if you’d like, I assume you’re tired”, Carlos says and Harry nods. “Okay, but we need to schedule another meeting”.

            “Yes, sir”, Harry stands up. “I know I’ve- fucked up. I’m sorry.”

            “Nothing we can’t control, we just need to know where you stand”, he replies truthfully. “Can you please keep walking with your body-guard?”

            “Told him already”, Jeff says.

            “Yes, I’ll give Peter a call”, Harry promises.

            He and Jeff go to a golf club to have lunch and then Jeff finally drops Harry home. He takes the longest nap ever and texts Alex to let him know he can come whenever he wants. Suddenly his house in LA is too big and too cold, even if it’s September and the weather is perfect.

            Harry got so used to the warmth of… _Family_ that it’s weird to be on his own again. He loves Los Angeles. He loves his life and his friends here and he knows this is the place for him. He also knows this place is missing a few people – or maybe just a person. He doesn’t think too much about it right now.

            When he wakes up, jet-lagged as fuck and with a killing headache, he realizes Louis has texted him a Sugarscape link and said _we need to talk_. Yeah, they do. Harry texts back saying that he’s in LA, as Louis already knows (because he’s told him so before going – _still so whipped_ ), but he’ll call as soon as he gets back to London.

When he opens his email though, Liam’s name pops up after so, so long. Harry can see his and three other e-mail addresses. This should be interesting.

 

            **_Hi mates how u doin? So heres the thing, sophias going away for the wknd w some friends and I thought we could all meet and tlk some stuff over like zayns been asked about louis and harrys situation back in the days and im sure well be too so I want us all 2 b on the same page. My place on Friday at seven pm bring snacks. Niall dont forget beers. Cheers._**

Harry realizes two things: 1) Liam’s grammar is still as terrible as always and 2) Harry and Louis’ relationship still affects their friends’ lives. Perfect.

 

Alex gets there at night bearing take away food and a small duffle bag to probably put his clothes in. Harry’s checked and there aren’t many things.

“Hi”, Harry says and steps out of the way for him to come in.

“Hi, there”, Alex offers a smile. “How are you?”

“I’m good, you?”

“’M okay”, he says, putting the food on the kitchen counter.

“How’s family?”

“Hating you, mostly”, he laughs. “They’re okay”, Alex shrugs and Harry moves to get plates and cutlery, “mom’s still pretty shaken ‘bout my uncle’s death, but… Yeah. They’re managing. I had to get back to work or else they’d drive me insane.”

Harry laughs. Alex’s family’s always been a little overprotective, especially because of his profession and more especially after he started dating a popstar.

“Your mom called me”, he says nonchalantly.

“What?”

“A couple of days ago”, he tells Harry, “she congratulated me on the show and said she’s sorry we didn’t- well”, he smiles, “I don’t think she _is_ sorry, per se, but yeah, it was nice of her”, Alex continues. “Gonna miss her taste in flowers.”

Harry laughs.

“She didn’t tell me”, he says as they start eating. “But I’m not surprised. This is so like her”, he laughs. “Did Nick call you as well?”

“Yeah. He’s told me about your interest in helping him in the fashion world… ‘S very nice of you. I’ve seen some of his stuff and I think there’s space for him in the market.”

“Me too, yeah”, Harry agrees. “How much d’you hate me, Alex?” He asks more curious than anything. 

            “I don’t hate you, Harry”, Alex rolls his eyes. “Can anybody hate you?” He laughs. “It’s unfair, really”.

            “I’m sorry”, Harry says.

            “I know you are- and you should be, cause I’m a catch-”

            “You are”, Harry states.

            “-but you have the purest of hearts and you tried to control it but- I think your heart’s too big for you too.”

            “God, I’m an idiot”, he says. “I was an _ass_ to you and here you are being sweet to me”, Harry says. “You have an amazing heart as well.”

            “Ok, we both have amazing hearts”, Alex says and they both laugh. He raises a glass. “Cheers to that”, he toasts with Harry, “but they don’t belong together and it was nice while it lasted blah-blah-blah, let’s finish eating”.

            “One more thing”, Harry asks. “Have you forgiven me already?”

            “I think so?” He laughs. “Or I’m almost there at least.”

            “How d’you do that?”

            “Please don’t tell me you’re asking me because you want advice to forgive Louis, cause I’m not that good.”

            Harry laughs. “I’m sorry.”

            “You’ve been trying to let things go, Harry, but really, the only thing you have to _let_ , like, _be_ , is yourself. Stop holding back.”

            They smile at each other and make small talk for the rest of the evening. Alex collects his things and even convinces Harry to give him two of his CDs – but really, it’s the _least_ Harry can do for the guy.

            He leaves at eight thirty saying he has a party to get to and Harry tells him to have fun. Once Alex’s gone, Harry realizes he does love him – he was just never in love with him, he was never _going to_ be in love with him. Alex’s been his best friend for almost a year and Harry loves him. And his heart’s okay with that. (In the future, when they meet again and life is oh-so-different, Harry remembers today.)

 

            The next morning he drives to Irving’s house to have brunch with him and his wife. They’re his LA family and Harry feels at home with them. He helps to set the table and talks with Irving’s wife until Jeff and Glenne arrive.

            They talk till almost eleven am, when Miriam calls Harry letting him know he’s already late. He tells her he’s with Irving and she’s _so sorry, we can wait_. He laughs and tells her he’s on his way.

           

“When d’you get back to London, H?”

            “Tomorrow morning”, he replies. Glenne’s smile falters. “Why?”

            “Wanted to go shopping”, she shrugs, “your friend’s a terrible company”, she accuses Jeff and he rolls his eyes at his wife.

            “We can go at night, I can- like, call some stores if you want. They’ll be open.”

            “See?” She turns to Jeff, “this is how it’s done”, she smiles and hugs Harry. “Thank you, I love you.”

            “Love you too”, he smiles.

            “Shall we go?” Irving asks.

            “You going in today, dad?”

            “I want to participate on Harry’s meeting”, he says. “He needs some looking-after right now, don’t you, son?” He asks Harry patting him on the back.

            “I think so- yeah”, he smiles. “Thanks.”

           

            Louis is the main subject of this meeting and he’s a bit sick with how many times he’s obligated to listen to/say his name. They’re treating his love life like every management team does: like _business_. And he knows they’re not wrong, but it still hurts to have people giving him options to deal with something he has no idea of what _it is_ yet.

            They basically tell him to not lie, ever again, which is what he’s been doing. But they still don’t know how to deal with Harry’s past. By contract, he can’t say much about Modest’s stunts. He can’t say they were together before, but they aren’t together now. He can’t tell about the cover-ups and the nights he flew in and out of countries hidden to just spend the night with him.

            He can say that he loves him, though, if that’s what he wants. He can say that they’ve been in love for forever now and that right now is the right time for them – if that’s what eventually happens. He can say that he broke up with Alex because it didn’t feel right anymore and he can say he’s focusing mainly on work now, while he tries to figure his heart out. Except for the fact that he can’t, can he? There was never a celebrity to be this blunt to the media. There was never a celebrity with a life so complicated being so young – not that he knows of.

            “Your image isn’t as important as your feelings, Harry”, Irving says. Harry’s always admired how wise he is. He respects Irving like he respects few people in the world. “We’re not robots here, we’re well aware of that, but you have to know that people will start digging everywhere for information and they will find things.”

            “Like what?”

            “Like hotel receipts, like old videos that were never released to the press… Of course we can silent some stuff but- after you confirm you and Louis are together, there’s not much we can do we don’t- we don’t have power over every damn source in the world and you two have been together almost _everywhere_.”

            “Me and Louis are not together”, that’s all he can say. “We really are- are trying to figure things out.”

            “So maybe we should go with the friend’s narrative”, Carlos says.  “We can say you’re reconnecting after your break up with Alex because-”

            “No”, Harry says firmly. “I’m not going to do that, I’m not going to let the world think Alex’s broken my heart when he’s worked so hard to mend it.”

            “What do you want, then?”

            “I think I want to avoid it, for now”, he says. “I’m meeting the guys, my- my former band mates this weekend. Apparently they’re being harassed too and we’ll, like, align our stories.”

            “Make sure to align it perfectly, though”, Miriam says. “It’s really important that you guys don’t mess with your old contracts. I mean it.”

            “You could face a huge trial for it”, Irving warns.

            “We’re all aware of that”, Harry laughs bitterly. “Can we avoid it for now and I’ll get back to you as soon as I know what’s going to happen?”

            “Sure”, Carlos says.

            “We’ll keep it down for as long as we can”, Irving assures him.

            Harry thanks them, signs some stuff and calls Peter – his body guard – letting him know they’re traveling to London the next day. He books him a hotel and tells Niall he will be staying with him again, _until I find a place, I promise I’m looking_ , he says and Niall flips him off via emoji. Okay.

 

            “Hey, mate, you ready?” Niall knocks on the door.

            “I think so”, he replies putting on a sheer white shirt. He’s wearing his signature skin-tight black jeans and white all-stars. No headbands today. “We’re going already?”

            “Yeah, let’s go”, Niall says and leaves the room. Harry grabs his phone and wallet before exiting it himself.

            He’d thinking positively and he likes to believe he’s not nervous. But it’s a lie. He is nervous for so many reasons. The two most important ones right now being: seeing Louis again (cause he can’t imagine a day Louis won’t make him nervous) and meeting Zayn after so, so long.

            It’s not that he and Zayn fought or anything, really, but the circumstances weren’t in their favor. In 2015, Louis was still pretty pissed off with Zayn. All of them were, truth be told, but Louis got hurt the most, so he refused to be _bros_ with Zayn again – there were so many twitter spats back then, it’s laughable now. And when Louis finally talked to Zayn again, it was because of the baby-thing, so it seemed unnecessary for Harry to make an effort to contact Zayn at all. It’s all a mess and Harry gets in Niall’s car hoping everything will be all right and they’ll all be adults about it.

            “I should get a car”, Harry says once they start moving.

            “What happened to your cars here when you decided to stay in LA?”

            “We only had one here”, Harry says, “I told Louis he could do whatever he wanted with it, he must’ve changed eventually. My collection is in LA.”

            “Oh. Yeah, I have a mate who sells amazing cars, can give you his contact…”

            “Please”, Harry says.

            “You’re really coming back then?” Niall asks smiling.

            “For a while, at least”, Harry confirms, “have some things to figure out, don’t I?” He laughs. “Plus, I’m gonna be touring here, doing promo stuff… Yeah.”

            “That’s good to hear, Hazz.” Niall says.

            They drive quietly through London and Harry pays attention to the traffic this time, so he realizes Liam’s house is actually close to his old place. Louis’ current place. Argh. When they park, Harry helps Niall take the beer packs from the car and Liam opens the door instantly. Zayn and Louis are already there and get up to greet them.

            Harry hugs Liam first cause it’s easy, he’s done it already. He then proceeds to Louis. They don’t know how to act around each other so they kind of just smile and stand awkwardly close saying “hi” and “hello” and “good to see you”. Harry’s sure his cheeks are as red as Louis’s. He feels ridiculous. Zayn’s eyeing him like only _Zayn_ can eye someone. On this second Harry’s taken back to the Take Me Home Tour.

 

            He was really, really sleepy and still had two bridges to record. Louis was already sleeping and so were Liam and Niall. Zayn was still up because he had just finished recording and decided to stay there with Harry for moral support.

            “My throat’s killing me”, Harry complained.

            “Here mate”, Zayn handed him a hot cuppa, “we just gotta finish Strong, I guess.”

            “I have Midnight Memories to finish too”, Harry said tiredly. “God, I need to sleep.”

            They rarely complained about their lives, because they didn’t feel like they _could_. It was both a blessing and a curse, because they were only human and they felt like they were being explored half of the time. But since the other half they spent doing what they loved and receiving a ridiculous amount of money for it, complaining just made them feel worse.

            “I’ll stay up with you”, Zayn said.

            “You’re tired as hell, Z, go get some sleep, Julian’s gonna keep me awake, aren’t you?” Harry asked trying to smile at Julian.

            “Sure thing”, he smiled back.

            “I’ll stay up”, Zayn said.

            Harry smiled and thanked him, and positioned himself between the two mattresses that improvised a studio inside the hotel room.

            He recorded Strong in half an hour. He sang it with a passion and everyone knew why. But it took him five long tries to get Midnight Memories right.

            “Jesus fucking Christ”, Harry tried not to yell and rubbed his face furiously.

            “One more try, Harry”, Julian said.

            “You’ll get it, mate”, Zayn said. “It’s sounding way better.” He was lying to make Harry feel better. He couldn’t get that note to save his life at that moment, but it somehow worked because Harry was finally able to focus enough and finish the damn song.

            Julian told them they could go, they were only recording three days from that night, because the next few days were scheduled to Louis, Liam and Niall.

            “Fuck, now I won’t be able to sleep”, Harry said leaving the room.

            “I’m going to the roof for a smoke, come with me.”

            Harry went with him. They were in North Carolina and the weather was pleasant. It was three am and Zayn was on his last cigarette of the pack. Harry never understood the thrill – not even when Louis convinced him to shotgun –, but he wished he had something (other than sex) to relax him at times.

            “You okay, Zayn?” Harry asked.

            “Why d’you ask?”

            “You only stay up when it’s extremely necessary.”

            “It was extremely necessary for you to finish those songs. You’re my friend, Hazz.” He shrugged.

            “That’s all?”

            Zayn laughed.

            “I’m gonna tell this story at your wedding- how you didn’t believe me when I said I gave up my sleep so you could finish a song.”

            “Thanks, mate”, Harry smiled and half hugged him.

            “We only have ourselves, Hazz. The five of us. Never forget.”

 

            They only have themselves right now too, it seems. The five of them are in the same room together after longer than Harry can remember and Zayn gives him a _missed you_ look. They hug. It’s not dramatic or sentimental, it’s just… _I missed you, bro_. “Good to see you”, Harry says and Zayn squeezes him tight for only a second.

            They go to the back of Liam’s house and it reminds Harry of one of the first times they got together – at his dad’s bungalow. Louis and Zayn sit together on a small couch and Harry sits by Liam’s side on the other, a bigger one. Niall spreads himself on the rug and opens five beer bottles. 

            “Gang’s back together”, he says in his strong Irish accent, “knew this would happen someday.”

            “Ohhh Nialler, don’t get too emotional now”, Louis mocks.

            “Can’t help it, Lou”, he replies. They toast with their long-necks and fall comfortably back to their positions. “So, Lima”, Niall starts, “you wanted us to talk!”

            “Hm- yeah, I- I was talking to Lou the other day and- like, he’s being chased? And so is Zayn and Zayn’s management team’s going crazy with old stuff surfacing…”

            “-so is mine”, Harry inputs.

            “Right, so. What do we do?”

            “We can’t leak anything from our old contracts”, Zayn says.

            “Why would we, anyway?” Louis asks. “Can’t we just, like, pretend we were never under those terrible, terrible people?” They all laugh. “I mean it. I don’t see why we have to worry…”

            “Really?” Harry asks. “Louis, we’re everywhere again.”

            “Well, we’ve hidden once before.”

            “I don’t’ want to hide anymore.” Harry states.

            “Hazza, you know we can’t, like, tell the world about everything…” Niall reasons.

            “Of course not”, Harry rolls his eyes, “I’m just saying… I’ve talked to my team too and they said I can keep it down for a while, and yeah, we can’t mention anything from our past, but- moving forward, it’s up to us”, he shrugs. “And I really don’t want to lie.”

            “Me neither”, Liam says. “Like, I really, really don’t want to lie. I’m not on the spotlight anymore- not like you or Z, or even Louis right now. But if I ever get asked about you two again” he waves his hands between Louis and Harry, “I won’t lie”.

            Harry tries not to focus on Liam’s watery eyes, but he does. Of all of them, Liam has always taken it the hardest when it came to hiding Harry and Louis’ relationship. It always ended up with him the terrible task to deny it when Louis couldn’t. It made him feel pretty bad most of the time.

            “What are we talking about, though?” Louis asks. “I was leaving my house this morning and two girls were _camped_ there, I swear… And they asked me if- if Stella’s really mine?! And if Harry broke up with Alex to be with me and- I don’t want anyone to have this piece of information of my life.”

            “You’re right”, Harry says. “I don’t want it either.”

            “So…?” Niall asks.

            “I think we can- like, sift? What we say.” Zayn voices. “If they ask me if Louis and H were in love when One Direction was together, I feel comfortable saying that yes, they were. If they ask me about fake-relationships, I feel comfortable saying ‘I can’t answer that’ and they’ll know the answer right away”, he shrugs. “We’re too old to lie.”

            “This could work”, Harry says. “Not only about me and Louis, but- like, about everything? We can use our judgement to let things out in the world and if we think something can affect the other we’re just a text away, right?”

            “Yeah, ‘m good, mate, got nothing to hide”, Niall says.

            “I’m okay with it too”, Liam says.

            “I need to come out”, Louis surprises everyone. “I- it’s time, isn’t it? I was never going to make a big deal out of it, but now it just feels like it’s necessary.”

            “You don’t have to”, Harry says.

            “I really do, Harry.”

            Liam looks at Louis with such pride in his eyes that Harry can only mirror. Louis says he’ll talk it over with his rep and find the right time to do it, and explain what he can about the last eight years – running everything through the guys, _he promises_ – and that’s pretty much it.

            The five of them agree that anything _larry-related_ will be slowly revealed when it comes to the past, but the present is up to the two of them. Harry exchanges a brief look with Louis saying they’re willing to work on it and it’s like they used to do a long time ago – they can still communicate perfectly. Oh, where’s the surprise?

 

            “So, tour. You ready?” Zayn asks Harry.

            “I think so”, he replies excitedly, “I asked them to not- like, shock our dates? I really did, Zayn.”

            “I don’t mind, mate”, Zayn smiles. “Maybe we can record something together while you’re here? Louis’ got a bunch of good stuff written that’d be perfect for your voice.”

            Louis makes a strangled noise.

            “We can, hm, talk about that”, Harry says.

            “Just come by the studio during the week”, Liam says, “I’ll show you some stuff, you were there so briefly…” Harry nods and promises he’ll stop by. “I’m really glad you’ve found your way home, you know?” Liam says.

            Before Harry can argue on the word _home_ , though, Niall says:

            “He’s found his compass again.”

            Harry goes still. Louis almost drops his beer. Zayn stares and Liam needs a few seconds to catch up. And then Louis is getting up and saying something about using the loo. Liam goes after him.

            He knows Niall’s said it jokingly, because Niall doesn’t fully understand what that compass tattoo means to the both of them. Of course they all have an idea: Harry’s a lost ship at sea and Louis guides him home. But it’s more than that. That set of matching tattoo was, maybe, their biggest promise of forever – of being attached for the rest of their lives. It didn’t matter how tossed they got by the waves, they’d always, _always_ find each other.

Louis had told him he had a river for a soul – it ran its course at different paces, but always moving forward; sometimes too full, sometimes so empty it felt dry. Harry was his boat, he’d said, Harry was his only reason to fill up again after a drought. _There isn’t a world in which I won’t find you_ , Harry had told him right before he got tattooed. _Good_ , Louis had replied, _cause I could never exist in a world without you_.

           

            “I really, really don’t get it”, Harry says trying not to get pissed. “How is it he always seems more affected than me about this stuff?” Niall shrugs. “Z?”

            “Because he is, Harry. More affected than you, I mean.”

            “But _I_ was the one who got hurt, Zayn.”

            “Are you that thick, Harry? Seriously?” Zayn asks raising his voice. “Louis has been dying every day since you left him.”

            “I had a reason to”, he argues.

            “Of course you did. And what was that reason? Him. He’s been carrying his pain and your pain over his tiny shoulders for so long. He can’t breathe sometimes. I’ve lost count of how many times I woke up to him screaming on the couch cause he couldn’t even get to bed. I’ve lost count of how many times me or Liam had to hold him tight because he seemed like he’d break otherwise”, he continues, “of course you got hurt, H. Of course you’ve suffered. Of course you’ve gone through hell. But so has he. And you’ve moved on from him, but he’s never even _thought_ about going out there and finding someone else.”

            “It’s not my fault.”

            “Nobody’s saying it is”, Zayn almost cries out. “But you’re back and you’ve given him hope and it’s- it’s just hard.”

            “I love him, Zayn”, he gets up, “it’s ridiculous I even have to _say_ it by now. He knows I love him. _I’ve told him_.”

            “But have you forgiven him?” Harry doesn’t reply. “He wants to fight for you, Harry. So bad. Yesterday he told me he has this…This whole plan to get you back you know? It’s so romantic it’d be ridiculous if it were anyone but you two. But he’s afraid of it being in… Vain, I guess.”

            “Translating: he’s scared you’re not willing to forgive him.” Niall speaks for the first time. “He won’t do anything unless you give him the green light.”

            “Stop the mixed signals”, Zayn completes.

            Harry sits again. He thinks for five minutes in silence and then gets up. He’s already decided.

            “Niall, is it okay if I ask Louis for a ride back to yours? I know we came together but- I need to talk to him. Alone.”

            “It’s great, actually, me and Z here are going to a party now, we’d invite you but”, he grins.

            “Next time, yeah?” Harry smiles. “I really wanna party with you two.”

            “Yeah yeah, next time”, Zayn says. “I’m not saying you _should_ forgive him”, he gets up and hugs Harry, “I’m saying you need to make a decision. You’ve had enough time.”

            “I know”, Harry says. “We only have ourselves. The five of us. I haven’t forgotten.”

            “Good”, Zayn replies. “See you, Harry.”

 

            When Harry goes back inside the house, it’s dead-silent. And then he spots Liam hugging Louis on the sofa. They’re not talking. Liam’s just rubbing Louis back and Louis has his head on Liam’s left shoulder.

            Harry walks towards them. Liam sees him before Louis, and he places himself in front of Louis, clearing his throat asking for attention. Louis looks up at him.

            “Fight for me”, Harry tells him. “Please, fight for me.” Asks him.

            Louis’ eyes go wide. For a second it’s like he doesn’t process what Harry has just said. But then he lets go of Liam and gets up to hug Harry. So, so tight.

            “Thank God”, Louis breathes into his neck. Harry doesn’t know how long they hug, but when they separate, Liam’s not in the room anymore. “Hazz”, he says softly, one hand in Harry's loose curls, the other searching for Harry’s hand. “You do know that I’ll get you back, right? Now that you’ve given me permission to fight”, he smiles, “I will win”.

            “Well, I’m hoping you will”, Harry smiles and doesn’t tell him there isn’t much of a fight anymore. Was there ever? Has Harry _ever_ stood a chance? He doesn’t know.

            “I’ll-” Louis seems to ponder only for a second if he’ll say the next few words. Harry’s glad he chooses to. “I’ll do _anything_. I swear.”

            “Give me a ride back do Niall’s?”     

            Louis laughs. He laughs happily and loudly. It’s Harry’s favorite sound in the world and he doesn’t know how he’s gone so long without it.

            “C’mon”, he says and walks towards the door.

            “We need to say goodbye”, Harry says.

            “Hazza, we really don’t”, he smiles and opens the door.

           

            Once Louis starts the car, Harry recognizes his own voice on the speakers and they both laugh.

            “This is one of my favorite songs”, Louis says.

            “Obviously, because it’s about you”, Harry rolls his eyes.

            “Is it?” Louis asks widening his eyes.

            “Really?” Harry asks. He starts to sing along with the CD. _“Without you, I feel broke, like I’m half of a whole. Without you, I’ve got no hand to hold. Without you I feel torn, like a sail in a storm… Without you I’m just a sad song… I’m just a sad song.”_

            Louis is quiet for a few beats after the chorus. When he speaks again, his voice is hoarse.

            “I don’t know if I’m more aroused by the lyrics or the fact that you’ve just sung with yourself… Either way… Thank you”, he looks at Harry, the car’s stopped at a red light.

            “I could never write like you”, Harry confesses, “but I tried.”

            “They’re all perfect, H.”

            “They are _okay_ , Louis. You know that.”

            Harry isn’t looking for compliments and Louis knows it. Because Louis knows him. Because Louis knows everything.

            “We could write together”, Louis says, the car’s moving again. “Liam told you to go to the studio… I could show you some stuff too, we could- work together like- like the old times.”

            “I’d like that”, Harry says and Louis smiles, but doesn’t take his eyes off of the road.

            Harry takes his time to analyze Louis’ features and _Jesus, he’s so beautiful_. It does not matter the light he’s under, Louis just _glows_. Harry will never understand how that’s even possible. Maybe Louis isn’t from this world after all. Maybe he and Harry are a pair of aliens, aliens from _larryland_. He smiles at the thought.

            He doesn’t realize they have stopped until Louis touches his hand lightly and turns down the volume. The last song of the CD is playing and Harry wonders if Louis’ knows that that one was meant to be a response to _Strong_. He figures he can ask after, because the way Louis is staring at him right now makes him doubt his abilities to talk.

            “Have dinner with me tomorrow”, Louis says and squeezes Harry’s left hand lightly. “Let me, erm, let me take you to dinner tomorrow.”

            “Yeah- okay”, he manages to voice. “Where?”

            “’S a surprise”, Louis says. “Just be ready at seven and I’ll pick you up, yeah?”

            “Louis.”

            “Let the fighting begin, Harold”, he laughs quietly. “Please.”

            “Yes, I’ve said it”, Harry laughs too. “See you tomorrow then? - Hey- what?” He asks when he sees a tear streaming down Louis’ face. He catches it with his right thumb. “What?”

            “You said _see you tomorrow, then_ ”, Louis explains, “and your voice was- is- like, fond? And I never”, he kind of chokes, “oh God, I’m pathetic”, he now laughs, but still crying. Harry catches all of his tears. “I never thought I’d hear it again. The fondness. In your voice. Talking to me.”

            “Oh, Lou”, Harry smiles.

            “See you tomorrow, H”, he opens his bright blue eyes and leans forward to kiss Harry on the cheek. He presses his lips to Harry’s right cheek softly but surely. Harry revels on the feeling and considers moving his head so they can kiss properly, but Louis moves back. “Seven pm”, he says.

            Harry agrees and leaves the car.

           

            The day is _dragging_ and Harry wants it to be seven pm already. He’s tried a hundred of outfits even though he knows it’s not necessary because _it’s just Louis_. And then he remembers their first date and he remembers Louis telling him there was never _just_ about Harry and he laughs out loud, by himself, and talks to the mirror. “There’s nothing _just_ about Louis either, you idiot”.

            He showers and settles for jeans, boots and a Louis Vuitton patterned shirt – he’s sure Louis is going to make fun of it, and he’s looking forward to the comment. He’s _missed_ it.

 

            At seven pm sharp Louis shows up at Niall’s. He asks Harry to go to the parking lot because he doesn’t want to risk paparazzi spotting them and once Harry gets there, Louis waiting for him outside the car with a purple headscarf in hands. Harry recognizes the scarf, of course – it’s his. Harry wonders if it’s the only thing Louis kept and what he’s done with his stuff over the years. Maybe he’s given it to charity.

            “What’s that for?” He asks.

            “It surely isn’t to match this terrible shirt”, Louis scoffs. Harry laughs louder than intended, proud of himself for foreseeing this scene. “I’m joking, you- you look amazing as per usual. It’s boring, really, how hot you are.”

            “Such kind words”, Harry sing songs.

            “Only the most poetic stuff for you”, Louis replies.

            Banter. Easy banter. _Yes, please and thank you_ , Harry thinks.

            “Seriously, though, what’s that for?”

            “I need to blindfold you”, Louis says. “I’m taking you to a surprise location.”

            Harry complies, because of course he does. They talk a lot on the way, mostly every-day stuff. Louis tells him Fizzy’s already gone to the United States and it’s loving it there and Harry asks him if it’s okay if he starts texting with his sisters again. Louis says yes.

            It takes longer than Harry expected for them to get to their dinner place. At first Harry figured they were going to the beach, but then he gave up on that, once Louis laughed at the idea. Then he imagined they’d make their way to 17 Black – Louis remembers their first date, he’s sure. He sticks to this idea until Louis puts him in a lift.

            “Lou”, he says.

            “Almost there”, Louis says when the lift door opens and then, “okay”, Louis whispers and positions himself behind Harry. “I’ll take it off now.”

            When Harry opens his eyes, he's in their living room. Not the Primrose Hill living room, but the Camden Town one. In their flat. Louis’ brought them to their secret heaven in London.

            “I can’t believe it”, he says. “You-” he turns to see Louis’ eyes watering again. “Stop”, he asks. “You can’t cry every time we do something because I- well, I don’t want to cry too”, he says.

            Louis laughs and nods. “Yeah, I’m good”, he says softly. “And hungry. Are you hungry?” He asks walking towards the kitchen. Their kitchen.

            “I am. Do I smell food? Did you cook?” Harry asks still a bit stunned.

            Louis smiles and points to the table.

            There, among wine and fancy glasses, candles and silver cutlery, there’s chicken wrapped in parma ham stuffed with mozzarella cheese with a side of homemade mash.

           

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments so far. They mean the world to me <3
> 
> ("Harry's" song is Sad Song, by We The Kings :*)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel light. Hope you do too when you finish reading this chapter.  
> All the love xx.

Harry’s been silent for too long staring at those candles and Louis is a nerve-wreck. He needs Harry to speak asap but he can’t quite move himself. Harry has wonder stamped on his face and his eyes shine brighter than anything Louis’ ever seen.

Louis spent the entire day in this flat after many months without coming here. Despite keeping a maid regularly at the place, he doesn’t come here unless he’s feeling really sorry for himself – and even then he just takes a look around, takes a look at the pictures and gets out. Today, though… Louis has been here since one in the afternoon when he came in with groceries right after a short trip to Sainsbury’s (closer to the flat).

This meal is still the only one he can cook properly. Of course he’s learned some stuff for Stella, but it’s basically crumpled vegetables so that’s easy. But even if it weren’t, chicken wrapped in parma ham would still be his first pick.

 

-

 

Harry arrived earlier and Louis knew it because he heard the elevator opening and closing from the kitchen. The mashed potatoes were ready but the chicken was still in the oven and would take at least twenty minutes to cook according to his internet research. There it went Louis’ perfect surprise.

“Lou, you home?” Harry asked and Louis yelled back at him, but he was already entering the kitchen. “What are you doing?” He asked smiling stepping closer and pecking Louis’ mouth.

“Cooking”, Louis smiled back brightly and petting his cheek with one hand, the other still holding a wooden spoon.

“You? Cooking?” He laughed stepping back to look around. “You’re really cooking”, he then said in awe, eyes big searching for something in Louis’s own. “For me?”

“Well- no, I actually thought we could share with the neighbors- auch”, he complained and laughed when Harry slapped his arm.

“You’re cooking for me”, Harry stated fondly, placing his hands on Louis’ hip and facing him closer, inwardly. “Why? Did I forget a date?” Harry frowned like he was searching for something in his mind.

“No, silly”, Louis said, “because I love you”, he told him throwing his arms around Harry’s neck. “And you always cook for me”, he said lowering his voice, getting on the tip of his toes to press his mouth on Harry’s, “and take care of me”, another kiss, “and love me”, another one. Before Harry could open his lips, Louis trailed open mouthed kisses down his neck, sucking on his favorite spot and went back to bite lightly on his earlobe, whispering trying to sound sexy but just being really, really fond, “and is such a good boy”. Harry shivered and Louis could feel his big hands tightening on his waist.

“How long till it’s ready?” Harry asked tilting his head to the general direction of the oven but not taking his eyes off of Louis. His voice was nothing but a whisper, already too far gone to do more. Harry was so easy for him it made hard – pun totally unintended but accurate – for Louis to concentrate on anything else.

“20 minu-”, he was pushed harshly against their fridge being kissed roughly by that seventeen year old god.

Harry was getting bigger by the month, bigger than Louis and he couldn’t even pretend he didn’t like it. It was amazing how Harry could pine him against _anything_ and he’d gladly be trapped when it meant he was about to get a fucking great orgasm out of it.

“I love you”, Harry pulled back to say, mouth red and wet and perfectly shaped and Louis needed it right at that moment. Harry knew that, but he had other plans first. “So much”, he whispered in Louis’ ear before licking it hotly, tracing his tongue along the outer ridge while positioning one of his legs in between Louis’ own, pressing his thigh against his boyfriend’s hard on – Louis bit his lip swallowing a moan. “And I think”, he continued, going back to his neck and his collarbones, a personal favorite, “I think you deserve a prize”, he said.

“Yeah?”, Louis gasped, shutting his eyes and hitting his head on the fridge door trying to contain a yelp when Harry cupped him in his huge hand, “Hazz.” He said, whined.

“What?” Harry asked with fake innocence while massaging him, never stopping, aligning the rhythm of his hand with the bruise Louis was sure he was making.

Louis didn’t need – couldn’t – to voice anything before Harry was lowering himself on the kitchen tiles and moving his hands on the back of his thigs and gripping it tightly pressing kisses on Louis’ bulge through the material of his jeans and pants. That was plain torture. Harry wasn’t normally a tease, but Louis was reveling on it.

He put his hands on Harry’s shoulders for support and couldn’t resist sliding one of them into his mess of curls. He let Harry have his way for a few more seconds, kissing his clothed erection and then sliding his shirt up moving up to his hipbones, sucking a bruise right there on the left one; but then he got impatient and just _too_ turned on and stopped him by pulling forcefully on his hair, making Harry stop instantly and let out a soft moan closing his eyes lightly and opening his mouth once again.

Louis was going to die.

“Now, Hazz”, he said and Harry’s green eyes darkened.

Harry pushed his shirt up with intent again but couldn’t get it passed Louis’ nipples cause he was still on his knees, so Louis helped him, and he focused back on the older boys’ jeans, opening the button and yanking it down along with his pants in a swift and harsh move. Louis didn’t even have time to feel his erection slap on his lower stomach cause Harry’s hand was already there, stroking him softly – _too_ softly, teasingly, loosely. Louis wanted to scream.

He bucked up from the fridge again but Harry’s other hands pinned him back as he started kissing Louis’ inner thigh and nibbling on it, making his way up and down again, going to the other one. Louis was gasping, and Harry matched his strokes with his breath, now tightening the grip going back to Louis’ hipbones, kissing wetly from side to side, until he finally sank back on his heels and stared at Louis’ cock, pre-come dripping from the head already.

Harry let out a soft moan before finally, finally closing his made-to-suck-cock-mouth on Louis’ head. “F-fuck”, Louis let out when Harry swirled his tongue at the tip, “H-ha-har”, he couldn’t even finish his name when Harry finally took more of him, letting Louis’ cock slide easily into his mouth, cheeks hollowed, sucking as if it could save his life.

Louis could see the outline of his cock on Harry’s cheek and he couldn’t _believe_ it every time a dimple showed up there. With one of his hands still buried in the curly’s hair, he placed his other one on Harry’s cheek to just feel how it filled up and emptied again. Harry licked through his shaft and kept his tongue stiff as he slid back and forth his frenulum, causing Louis’ to yell and buck up unintendedly – but happily. Harry liked having his mouth fucked, so he just gripped Louis’ ass and squeezed both of his cheeks bringing Louis’ penis to slide into his mouth once again, hitting the back of his throat making the blue-eyed guy groan and tighten his fist in his hair.

“Looking so- go-ah-good, Harry”, Louis gasped while Harry restlessly took him in his mouth, caressing the back of his thighs and going back to his bum without ever even gagging as Louis fucked into his mouth, “your fucking mouth _, Christ_ ”, he said, feeling the tip of his cock hit the back of Harry’s throat but still pretty aware of his boyfriend’s hands on his ass, _“how can you-- be li-like thhisss- HARRY”_ he shamelessly didn’t contain his scream when Harry’s fingers brushed on his crack and just knew it wouldn’t take him much longer to come. Actually, it didn’t take much at all. It only took Harry to press the tip of his finger into Louis hole and suck fiercely on his head for Louis to fall apart shooting down Harry’s throat.

Harry sucked Louis through it massaging his balls and licking him clean until Louis’ knees weakened. He let his body slide down the cold surface of the fridge door falling to the ground and kissing Harry’s mouth hotly, kissing him _thank you_ , kissing him _love you_ , kissing him _you drive me insane_ , tasting his own come. Harry moaned loudly when Louis licked into the roof of his mouth and he pressed the back of his hand on his own cock, which was craving attention. Louis replaced Harry’s hand with his own and felt it pulse on his palm. He caressed it and pulled back completely, leaving Harry wide-eyed and eager staring at him.

“Chicken must be ready”, he said as conversationally as he could, as if his body weren’t still shivering from his orgasm and made himself get up and put his jeans back on his feet and walking towards the stove.

“Lou-”, Harry cried out.

“Stop touching yourself, Harry”, he said and bent towards the oven, knowing Harry was ogling his ass. He was right, actually, the chicken was ready. A few more minutes and it’d burn. “Dinner’s going to be served”, he smiled coyly.

“But Louis.”

“Later, babe”, he winked.

Harry’s eyes rolled to the back of his head with the promise because that was what he liked: being denied, having to work harder to get Louis. He didn’t have many kinks, but he was very fond of the ones that involved Louis’ taking control and having him wait for his turn.

“Just gonna keep you hard through dinner… Think I deserve it, don’t you?”

Harry managed to get up as well. “Wasn't dinner supposed to be sweet and lovable?” He asked walking towards Louis and kissing his neck.

“Step back unless you want me to burn you with this tray”, Louis warned walking to the table and placing it there, “and your hard on _is_ lovable”, he pointed. “It’ll be sweet as well, I can totally suck chocolate out of you…”

“Louis”, Harry whined for the gazilionth time.

“Sit. I’m getting the side dish and some wine…” Louis said. He went back to the counter and put on an apron to put the mashed potatoes in a nice recipient. “What are you doing?” He asked when Harry got up.

“This is one for the books”, Harry said as he snapped a picture of Louis on his phone.

            Later that night he posted it as _Louis’ first cooking experience_ and little did they know, this would become one of their most talked about moments since Louis _always_ bragged about it on interviews. After dinner and as promised, Louis sucked Harry for dessert and they fell asleep on the couch among whipped cream and a lot of chocolate – naked, sticky, in love.

 

-

 

            “I promise I remembered the recipe”, Louis says provoking a little smile to appear on the corner of Harry’s mouth. “It’s supposed to be good”.

            “It’s great”, Harry answers him, “should we…?” He asks waving at the general direction of the table.

            “Yeah yeah”, Louis agrees and for a moment considers pulling the chair for Harry to sit, but that’d be awkward and forced cause Louis tries to be a gentleman, but he’s not _that much_ of a gentleman and Harry knows it. He’s just so happy he got this opportunity that he barely knows how to act now that they’re here together, but he’s doing his best not to lose his mind.

            Truth is Louis is glad Harry finally asked him to fight, because honestly that’s all he needed since day one: the permission to win the love of his life back. Louis knows it’ll take a while for Harry to trust him again completely, but he also knows he’ll tirelessly give him reasons to.

            “Wine?” Louis asks lifting the bottle and Harry agrees, handing him his glass.

            “It’s the same wine”, he says bewildered, “how did you remember the wine, Louis?”

            “Is it still your favorite?” He asks.

            “Yeah”, Harry smiles around the glass taking a sip of it.

            Louis only shrugs and Harry thanks him.

           

            So, they’re halfway through the meal and it’s a bit awkward. Well, Louis is a bit awkward, cause Harry is amazing. Louis doesn’t know what to say and is scared to blow this (first and maybe last ever if he fucks it up) chance.

            “This is actually pretty good, you know”, Harry tells him seeming really satisfied. “How- how have you been, like, eating?” He asks like it’s this forbidden question and Louis barks out a loud laugh. “What? ‘S a fair question”, he laughs too, “did you learn how to cook for Stella?”

At first Louis had thought he’d have to avoid talking about Stella at the beginning, but Harry’s showing him right away that it’s okay – which, yeah, it _has_ to be.

Stella’s literally the biggest part of his life now and choosing between the both of them is something he would never even think about doing, and he’s even kind of embarrassed for thinking Harry would _make_ him do it. Harry’s well aware of the things he’ll have to handle if- once they get back to each other’s lives, though, and Louis is very happy for it.

“No, actually, she suffers…”

“Please don’t tell me you feed your daughter canned stuff when she comes to London…” He asks genuinely concerned. _So_ Harry.

“ _No_ , Harold”, Louis replies and Harry pretends he breathes better because of it. The fondness in Louis’ voice is overwhelming even to him. “I actually try and make stuff, mostly crumpled stuff she doesn’t like… So  I, hm, improvise.”

“Meaning…?”

“Meaning the day we- uh, met, at the supermarket I was getting her that ice cream so we could eat with strawberries for breakfast…”

            “Louis!” Harry fakes outrage and puts a hand on his chest, “she’s three years old for Christ sake”, they both laugh, “she has to be eating vegetables and fruits and drinking healthy juice… There’s this green smoothie I drink in the mornings that-”

            “I don’t know if you remember but I’m not a top-chef”, Louis rolls his eyes, “I never had to cook for myself.”

            “Cause once you left your mom’s house I became your housewife”, Harry says poking his side and Louis almost chokes on his piece of chicken – which is actually good, wow, “when Stella’s not here you live of frozen food?”

            “And Zayn’s or Soph’s cooking… I can also sleep-walk to the frozen aisle at Tesco’s”, he confesses.

            “How is she? Stella?”

            “She’s good, talked to her yesterday before I went to sleep…”

            “No I meant… How’s she generally?”

            “Ok, taking the risk of sounding the cheesiest most ridiculous father of all times… She’s the best kid”, he smiles, “you know Luxie, at her age?” Harry nods, they’re just finishing eating, but Harry serves them more wine, “so, she’s like that, only- only she’s mine you know? And she does those things that mum _swears_ I used to do. She likes _Drake_ , Harry!” He smiles big and Harry returns with a grin as well, “and she likes football too- well- as much as a three year old can like, I guess, but she always complains if I tell her to play with Doris when I’m running ‘round with Ernie-- and the Rovers made this small uniform for her… I’m”, he stops, he breathes, “I’m totally the cheesiest father aren’t I?”

            “You’re the best father, Lou”, Harry says and Louis’ heart melts, he’s still not used to hearing _Lou_ again on Harry’s voice, “I always knew you’d be, it’s just… She’s the luckiest girl on the planet.”

            “Guess all those siblings and Luxie on tour _were_ good practice.”

            “Ha, yeah- remember when we used to babysit for Lou to go on dates?”

            “Came in handy when I had to deal with my first night alone with Ella…” Louis smiles a both memories: Stella’s and Lux’s. “You know-”, he starts, “Stella likes _Star_.”

            Harry’s eyes widen.

            “She does? I mean you- you called her Star?” He seems happy that Louis did.

            “Yeah. _Stars shine, papa_ , she said”, Louis imitated trying to not sound very creepy. “It broke my heart but it also warmed it? It was a bittersweet feeling.”

            Harry smiles and says he understands. And then he asks Louis how he schedules to see her constantly and how she’s gotten used to it. And Louis tells him everything. How hard it was at first and how he thought he’d either have to convince Briana to move to London or find a way to be in New York 100% of the time.

He tells Harry the first night he spent alone with Stella when she still was a newborn he cried more than she did and they both laugh at it, remembering the time _Harry_ started crying, because he thought he had drowned Ernest when he was only three weeks old, showering him while Jay went grocery shopping.

“We were totally the dream team, though”, Harry points.

“We were”, Louis agrees. “We are, H”, he then corrects both of them. “We’re still the dream team”, he says more softly, “and I can assure you we can still kick anyone’s ass at FIFA.”

“God, I miss playing it”, Harry threw his head back.

“How long has it been, Harold? And do not disappoint me!”

“Hm- okay, erm… 2015, so, hm, 4 years?”

“What? No.”

“Last time I played FIFA was with you, in the US.”

“HAROLD.” Now Louis fakes, well, no, he doesn’t fake outrage, he is _actually_ outraged.

“I told you I- I stopped doing everything that reminded me of you.”

“I’m sorry for ruining videogame for you too”, he says out of habit. He’s sorry for everything and everything is a big list, so he’ll just say it as the topics come. “Did you stop watching footie?”

“Yes, but- mostly because American’s footie kinda sucks and I wasn’t keeping up with the European teams…” He says defensively. “Still fascinated by the Packers though.”

“This is a crime, honestly”, Louis says. “And I still don’t understand that American… _Thing_ , that they call football.”

“Footie is soccer to them.”

“Which makes zero sense”, Louis points fervently.

“Yeah, gotta give you that”, he smiles and finishes his wine. “This apartment hasn’t changed a bit…” Harry speaks looking around.

“Apartment? Look who’s gotten all American…”

Harry laughs louder than he should, cause Louis didn’t say anything too funny. It’s his _Louis_ laughter, Louis realizes. He could cry out of joy.

“It was a slip… I still say _flat_ , okay? And _lift_ … Although I’ve discovered I like _elevators_ better.” Harry states.

“Next thing you’ll say is that you’ve traded tea for coffee.” Louis finishes his wine too and Harry thinks for a bit before speaking.

“No- but… Only because I avoid caffeine. And tea-”

“Tea reminds you of me?!” He completes for him.

“I drink it occasionally.” Harry shrugs.

“Hazza.” Louis says trying (and failing) to avoid a frown.

“It was my way of dealing with things, Lou”, he replies.

“I guess. It makes me sad, though.”

Harry doesn’t answer that. He looks at Louis and gets up from the table walking to the living room towards the picture-frames. Louis then remembers he hasn’t changed one picture since the last time they sat together on the rug with dozens of albums picking the best ones to put on display. It was a lifetime ago.

Louis gets up as well and watches as Harry sees the pictures, lightly passing his fingers through them and stopping at the most recent one (recent might be reaching, but, you know). They were in Disney, it was the day they recorded the TV Special, but that picture was taken in the morning. Harry had his hair up in a bun and Louis was wearing a soft green jumper that he was sure he’d left in Harry’s house in LA, cause he never saw it again after 2015 and they were laughing fondly at each other. It was a fan’s picture, actually. Louis never got to thank the girl for obvious reasons, but when he found it on his twitter mentions he just had to save it.

“You kept all the pictures”, Harry says as if he doesn’t believe it.

“To be honest I didn’t come much here over the years. I have someone clean it once in a while, but I don’t- of course I wouldn’t sell it or rent it, but I couldn’t live here as well, it was worse staying here than at the house. And changing the pictures would be too painful.”

“I get it, I guess”, he says. “Everything’s just too painful with us, isn’t it?” Harry asks as though he’s genuinely pissed at their situation. Louis is too. “The thing is… It can also be _too_ good it’s almost unbelievable.”

“Yeah” he agrees, going to sit on the couch. Harry’s still standing looking at the pictures. “I was convinced we’d never get back together, but I also refused to let you go completely, not- like- let you be free, you were-you- you are. Free, I mean. I just… Refused to let you go from me? If that makes sense” he bows his head and laughs, “okay, it doesn’t.”

“It does”, Harry smiles approaching. “You’re still convinced we’ll never get back together?” He asks, walking towards Louis and sitting by his side.

They have a huge couch. Harry’s almost glued to him, staring closely.

“Are you?” Louis returns the question cause he simply doesn’t know how to answer.

“Well, you told _me_ you will win and you will get me back, so”, he half-smiles as if he’s mocking Louis, “plus, Zayn told me you have a plan.”

“Zayn’s an ass”, Louis head hits the back of the couch, “but he saved me, a lot of times in many ways, so- he can say whatever he wants”, he finishes.  Or not.

Harry’s staring at him as if he wants Louis to keep talking. So he does.

“It’s not a plan, Harry”, Louis turns his head and sees Harry looking back at him, hovering over his face, “it’s just- it’s like you have allowed me to act like myself around you again and- and I think that, I mean, you’ve fallen for me once”, Louis says, “I don’t know how and I really don’t know what I did to deserve it but many years ago you fell in love with me, and I think that- I _hope_ that if I can be myself around you again, and that includes me doing all of our clichés” he smiles looking around them, “I hope that if I can be myself again, you’ll fall in love with me again. It’s not a plan, it’s a plea. It’s me begging to God that someone like you-no, that _you_ will see the same guy who was bloody nervous at 17 BLACK all those years ago and still like him.”

“Lou…”

“Even though he’s made a lot of mistakes. And even though you deserve better”, he completes, because he has to.

“It’s just me, Lou”, Harry says, touching his hand. The same innocent smile, but so, so much more intensity.

“There’s nothing just about you” he repeats his own words from so, so long ago. He’s not shy anymore, he’s stating a fact.

“This time you didn’t give me three days to pick an outfit”, Harry jokes, “but it did take me a while to pick the weirdest shirt for you to comment on.”

“You’re ridiculous”, Louis laughs fondly. “I’ve missed you.” He says more carefully, and raises a hand to caress Harry’s cheek. Harry closes his eyes and goes pliant, resting his head on Louis’ palm. It’s like Louis has won an award.

“I can’t promise I won’t freak out”, Harry says low after a deep breath, “and I can’t promise everything will be on track within a month-”

“I don’t expect it to.”

“-but I… I’ve missed you too”, he finally says, opening his eyes, “so much I’d actually wish I didn’t remember you at all at times”, _auch_ , “I- sometimes I was alone and it was easier to deal with it, to deny, I don’t know”, he closes his eyes again, Louis thumb strokes lightly from his cheekbone to his ear and he pets him there, putting a loose strand of hair behind it. “But sometimes I was in bed with another guy”, Harry lets out. Louis dies a thousand deaths. “And I’d miss you more and I would just run out of the room.”

“H…”

“I can’t promise it’ll be perfect again, Louis”, he says seriously, “but I can promise it has always been you at the end of every day and every night. Even when I hated you. Even when I replayed all of our terrible terrible days in my head. Even when I-”, he does not cry, but he takes in another sharp breath, “even when I convinced myself I was happy with Alex.”

“How is that, by the way? I mean, how are you?” He asks as he lets his hand fall from Harry’s face.

Louis is not a masochist nor is he that selfless that he’s worried about Alex. But it’s Harry and Harry’s life, and he wants to know everything, cause there was a time, before they even acted on their feelings, when they were best friends, they shared everything. They had always shared everything. Louis wants this part back too.

“It’s good. He’s a much better person than I am so”, Harry shrugs. “I cheated”, he says unproudly, “at the end of the day we’re the same, aren’t we? The perfect pair”, he laughs but Louis takes it like a slap – even if Harry didn’t mean to, it still hurt. “I’m sorry was that…?”

“A bit”, Louis doesn’t even think when he answers.

“I’m sorry”, Harry says, “that was uncalled for- I’m just- the worst part is that I’m not surprised I did it or anything and it fucking sucks-- knowing that-”

“’S fine, Harry, won’t hold it against you- will never hold anything against you.” Harry looks thoughtful and then holds Louis’ hands that are rested on his lap with his own, the other one trying to put a loose strand of hair behind his year again.

Louis focuses on Harry’s hand engulfing both of his. Harry’s hand is so fucking _big_. Everything about Harry is big. Louis can’t think about it now or he’ll hyperventilate. But he wants him – he wants him so much it’s eating him alive. _There’s no one else, no one else_ , he thinks. And then Harry pulls him out of his thoughts.

“Just because you messed up years ago it doesn’t mean you can’t call me on my own shit-”

“Hazz, it’s fine, you didn’t mean it.”

“No, now I didn’t. But I might do it on purpose just to be an ass and hurt you tomorrow or next week and- don’t let me yeah?”

Louis looks up at his eyes again and he can see Harry’s being honest. Well, of course he is – Harry’s never anything but. He can see Harry’s really trying and he is too and somehow it strikes him how much the both of them are willing to fight for this to work.

Despite the hiding and the stunts and the constant meetings in which they were told how _wrong_ they were, they got it easy from the start. They met at a young age, they became mates, they became best friends and they fell in love. It was an easy progression. There was never a time in which they – or anybody close to them – doubted their love.

Their relationship was never difficult and they never had to fight to _be_ together – on the contrary: they had _fought_ _together_ so no one would tear them apart. In the end, love did it – love tore them apart. And now love is mending them again – that undying teenage love –, only it’s matured, and it needs a little help. Fate can only do so much, Louis guesses.

At this moment he is thinking that he got lucky, yeah, but now he’ll fight to get it back and to keep it _forever_ ; he’ll show luck, and the universe, and God and whoever he needs to prove that he still deserves it. He will earn it one more time. They both will, for themselves. And there’s no obscure reason, no life-changing reason, because from the beginning _it just kinda happened_.

Louis likes to pretend he’s not a romantic, but he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, he and Harry are meant to be. 

 

“What changed, H?” He asks curiously after he realizes he’s left Harry hanging for too long. “From the day you saw me at the supermarket to Liam’s place yesterday?”

            “I kissed you, for starters”, Harry points and laughs; he drops Louis’ hands and brushes Louis’ fringe on his forehead. A soft touch that almost makes Louis want to close his eyes, but he keeps them open – he needs to _see_ Harry being kind to him in order to believe it’s actually happening and it’s not a dream. “I stopped fighting and decided it was your turn.”

Louis chuckles. He knows there’s a lot more to it.

“Honestly, I just stopped fighting”, Harry insists.

“Just like that?”

“Well- no”, he puckers his lips, making his thinking face. It’s adorable. “It took Nick kind of yelling at me in his kitchen. And then Niall, more than once. Also, mum. Zayn broke me, finally.”

“Your mom?” Louis asks surprised. Gladly surprised. Like, the happiest surprised on the planet of surprised people.

“Yeah, she’s pro-Louis”, Harry smiles. “Think Gems is too and she just- like pretended she wasn’t so I wouldn’t feel bad… Anyway, since I saw you again I kept talking myself out of it, you know?” Louis nods. He _knows_. “I kept waiting for someone to tell me to tell _you_ to fuck off and go back to LA because you’re not good for me but… Anyone- everyone that matters has told me quite the opposite over the past few weeks.”

“I don’t deserve it”, Louis voices before he can stop himself.

“Maybe not. But maybe you do”, the corner of Harry’s mouth lifts a bit in a half smile, “I don’t know. Some wise woman told me we’re not our mistakes, and you’re not yours so… I’m rambling again aren’t I?”

“You’ve no idea how much I’ve missed your rambling”, he smiles, and he knows he’s smiling like an idiot but he _is_ , isn’t he? He’s an idiot for Harry. “Is this wise woman, by any chance, Anne?”

“Yeah”, Harry’s smile spreads.

“I’ll have to send her flowers…” Louis takes note without realizing he’s still smiling too. It feels like his face’s gonna split in two at any second.

He knows they’re not nearly halfway there but he’s already so, so happy. He doesn’t know who closes the distance between them, but he realizes their mouths are together and his eyes are closed and Harry’s so soft against his lips; it’s nothing like it was at the fashion show – rough and fast and full of guilt. It’s warm and slow and delicate.

For a few seconds they stay pressed together, and when they separate, Harry’s hand slides carefully to Louis neck and his thumb strokes lightly on Louis’ jaw. Louis joins their foreheads and opens his eyes finding two green ones staring expectantly at him. He closes the gap again, this time with more intent but still softly. He’s in no rush.

Harry’s the one to start moving his lips against Louis’ own and he opens his mouth instantly. It’s hot, it’s familiar, it tastes like everything good together and when Harry’s tongue starts caressing his, he throws himself completely into it, forgetting there’s a world outside for the hundredth time tonight.

It doesn’t take much time for the kiss to become heated and urgent. He can hear the noises their tongues are making above the song Harry’s set up on their sound system a while ago. He can hear the wet sound of slick mouths colliding and he can _feel_ Harry’s hand tightening on the back of his neck while the other one is closed in a fist at the hem of his shirt.

Harry tugs there and pulls him closer; Louis goes easily and then feels Harry’s hand slide from his neck to his arm to his thigh, pulling it up and making Louis straddle him in a swift move. Louis can already feel his cock harden in his tight jeans and by the moan Harry just suppressed in the back of his throat, his is too – hardening, that is. _Fuck_.

Louis tries to slow down but Harry isn’t taking it, he takes both of his hands to Louis’ ass cheeks and pulls him even closer, making Louis sit right on his crotch and _yeah, he’s hard_. Damn.

“Harry”, Louis whispers on his mouth while tugging his hair, pushing him half an inch away, “hey- Harr-uh” he whimpers when Harry squeezes him, kissing down his neck – wet and forceful and bloody amazing. He can’t stop grinding and he feels like a fifteen year old because he could come like this. It’s been too long.

“Your skin, Louis- fuck, I’ve missed you so much”, Harry says bucking his hips up and nipping on his earlobe while toughening his grip on Louis waist, making Louis eyes roll to the back of his head, “the way you taste I- fuck, --I swear to God, I’ve mis-ah” he moans when Louis grinds down again, tilting his head to the right side so Harry will have more access to his neck, in which he works for a while driving Louis insane before he speaks hoarsely, “I’ve missed you”. And then they’re kissing again. Urgently. Fervently. Like every cell in their bodies will explode unless their tongues are moving in synchrony.

At this moment Louis _knows why_ he’s never looked for anybody else. When he feels Harry bucking up once again at the same time he pulls on Louis hair with one hand, the other making him grind frantically on his groin, Louis just _knows_ nobody else would suffice.

“I’ve miss- missed you so- so much”, he stutters talking on Harry’s lips, and clutching harder on his hair.

“Lou- bed, now”, Harry whines, “pl-please”, he asks and… Does Louis ever deny anything to Harry? Louis is going to give it to him, isn’t he?

Except… He can’t. They can’t.

Louis wants to. So fucking much he wants to slap himself for what he’s about to say.

“H-” he calls, “H stop”, he says again and pulls back, a frown already forming on Harry’s face, “we can’t.”

“Wh-what? Why not?” Harry asks and leans forward again, sucking on Louis’ neck. Louis is _sure_ he already has a love bite there, cause it’s pulsing and kind of hurting already. He already venerates it. “We can- we can do anything”, he affirms.

“Harry- do-don’t make this h-harder”, Louis pants and gathers all of his willpower to take his bum out of Harry’s crotch, making himself comfortable on his thighs. Louis places both of his hands on Harry’s chest and looks at him nervously, “we can’t do this tonight.”

“Why not?” Harry asks like a little kid that’s been denied candy.

“We- I mean- I don’t know”, Louis confesses. “It just feels too fast, cause… What if you freak out?” Harry lets out a breathy laugh, “don’t laugh, I mean it”, Louis insists. “I can’t handle having you and then… Not.” _Eloquent, Lewis._

“I’m not going to freak out.”

“You don’t know that”, he argues, “we can wait, yeah?”

It takes a while for Harry to respond and Louis is scared he fucked up and now Harry’s feeling unwanted, which, _no_. But then he sees Harry’s eyes brighten up and a playful smile forming on his lips when he says:

“Can we wait snogging a lot?” Louis laughs loudly and says _of course, you idiot_ , and then Harry smiles again. “Okay, can we wait eating ice cream too? I’m guessing we have ice cream here?”

“We do”, Louis rolls his eyes getting up from Harry’s lap and going to the kitchen.

Harry yells something about putting something on TV and Louis agrees, shaking his head in disbelief this is actually his life right now while trying to find to spoons without overthrowing the ice cream tube on the floor.

When he gets back to the couch Harry’s _shirtless_ – bless or damn him, Louis isn’t sure – and laid back, laughing at a rerun of _Gogglebox_ , a show they used to watch whenever they were home together. For a few seconds Louis just stays there, watching him, completely aware of the grin on his face. Harry raises his green eyes to him an opens his arms for Louis to fit in there. Louis goes quickly, giving Harry a spoon and placing the ice cream between them.

 

“Thank you, H”, Louis says a while later not really paying attention to the TV anymore, his head resting on Harry’s chest. He smells like happiness.

Harry takes his eyes off of the screen and looks down at him with a small smile, kissing his forehead. Louis knows there’s a million doubts running in that boy’s head right now, but just the fact that he’s decided to push them aside for them to be together at this moment makes him extra grateful – if that’s possible.

It’s one in the morning when they start yawning and Louis gets up from the couch claiming he needs to go – he can’t risk them falling asleep together. _Too dangerous_ , he thinks.

“C’mon, Hazz”, he stretches his hand for Harry to grab but he makes a funny face.

“Think I’m gonna stay here a bit longer, I can flag a cab later…”

“Later when? You’re already sleepy…” Louis rolls his eyes.

“I want to stay here”, Harry states.

“Oh. Okay.”

“Just- just for a bit”, he says, “maybe just tonight.”

“It’s okay, H”, Louis smiles. “This flat misses being inhabited, I suppose.” Harry smiles back. “Ok. Have a good night. We’ll talk, yeah?”

Harry gets up to walk Louis to the elevator, Louis presses the button and turns around to look at him. Harry smiles sleepily and Louis’ heart melts, so he hugs him really tight trying to translate all the words that aren’t coming to him.

“Well talk”, Harry says pressing a feathery kiss on his hair and then one to his mouth.

 

Louis leaves home to go back to the house with a feeling that it will, eventually, feel like home again too.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, @tefsq, d'you still hate me? <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's past two am in Brazil. I need some sleep.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: the lyrics used in this chapter as Louis's are not his nor mine. But it fits, so just go with it, please! <3

 

 

“JUST GET OUT OF MY FACE, LOUIS”, he screamed not giving a damn to the people around them. The people consisted of Alberto and Louis’ ridiculous friends, Xander – his own friend – and Lottie.

They were at Soho House in Chicago, at a private area. Both Harry and Niall were members of the club, but since Chicago was One Direction’s OTRA Tour basis, all of the members were granted access to the club.

“NO, JUST TALK TO ME, IT’S DRIVING ME INSANE.” Louis pleaded. Harry could see how reddened his face was and how he was doing his best not to cry. For someone who _never_ showed emotions, Louis had been acting like a fucking train wreck. And for someone who was usually so compassionate, Harry was just really fed up with it.

“I AM NOT TALKING TO YOU”, he replied, “CAN’T YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND? I CAN BARELY LOOK AT YOU.”

“WELL THAT’S FUNNY, YOU WERE _BEGGING_ TO LOOK AT ME YESTERDAY WHILE I WAS FUCKING YOUR BRAIN OUT.”

“LOUIS”, Lottie yelled, but Harry didn’t register because... How fucking dared he?

The truth was Harry couldn’t even fight him on this one because the night before hadn’t been the first and probably wouldn’t be the last he’d sleep with him, once he got so completely drunk that he’d forget they weren’t together anymore and Louis wasn’t about to become a father after cheating on him.

Harry was ashamed. Of course he was. He knew everybody _knew_ about it, and no one talked about how fucked up that was because how could they? It wasn’t something anybody could control. They’d have a gig, they’d finish it, Louis would go out and get plastered, Harry would go straight into his hotel room and do the same and then finally open the door so Louis could go in there and they’d make out till sunrise – when Harry would leave the room and they’d spend the day pretending that _that_ hadn’t happened.

“C’mon, get out of here.” Lottie said tugging on her brother’s arm.

“Fuck off, Charlotte.”

“Do not talk to her like this”, Harry hissed.

“Oh, now you’re polite.” He laughed bitterly.

“You’re a prick.”

“Oh, you’ve never complained about it before…” Harry wanted to punch Louis, he really did.

“Mate-”, Xander interfered, “you’re a bit drunk, you’re being irrational, just go, yeah?” He said.

Louis wasn’t a bit drunk. Louis was stoned. Truly fucking stoned. If Harry weren’t hating him so much at the moment, he’d probably rush him to a hospital to have a check-up cause his pupils were too dilated.

“Ohhh, your boyfriend’s defending your honor now… Does he know y-”

Harry breathed three times and refrained from explaining for the thousandth time that Xander was his _friend_ and nothing more, cause Louis _did not_ deserve knowing anything. In fact, Harry made a decision at that moment that he’d let Louis think he was fucking Xander, he really didn’t care anymore. _Lie._ (But he didn’t want to care anyway. The thought counted, right?)

“Louis, c’mon, we’re going”, Alberto said before he could finish the sentence and pulled him by the arm way stronger than Lottie had – for obvious reasons.

“I don’t wanna go!” Louis complained. “I wanna par-taaaay” he smiled and Harry saw a smirk on Calvin’s face. He wanted to punch him too. And Ollie. He wanted to smash Ollie’s and Calvin’s heads together. And Harry wasn’t a violent person.

“Just fucking take him out of here”, Harry asked Alberto. “Please.”

“Not. Going.”

“YES. YES, YOU ARE”, Harry lost his temper again, “SINCE YOU CAN’T VANISH FROM MY LIFE OR FROM THE FACE OF THE EARTH, YOU ARE GOING TO GET OUT OF THIS CLUB. RIGHT. FUCKING. NOW.” He yelled and felt his eyes burning. He hated him. He hated that he loved him.

“D’you really want me to vanish from the face of the earth?” Louis asked in a low voice, walking towards Harry. Lottie put herself between them – like she had done many times for the past couple of months.

“I really, truly do”, Harry responded. “I’m kind of embarrassed to be in the same band as you”, he continued. He wanted to hurt Louis. “You’re such a fuck up, aren’t you, Louis? Always doing the wrong things, always making the wrong choices… I should know, since I’m one of them, apparently.”

“Harr-”

He wakes up. His head is pounding and he wants to cry, because whenever he thinks those dreams- memories won’t happen anymore, he gets one of them. Since he started living by himself in Los Angeles in that huge house and sleeping alone on his own king size bed, he started having these nightmares: they’re usually things that have happened to him and Louis in the past and were left unresolved that haunt him.

Harry also wants to cry because he remembers clearly how that memory finishes. Ollie pulls Louis and tells him loud enough that Harry listens and tells him they should get going, cause Harry isn’t worth it. Louis argues that Harry _is_ and both Ollie and Calvin laugh. Harry remembers Xander’s hand on his shoulder keeping him from running away and giving them the pleasure of seeing him break down.

He still doesn’t know why Louis kept them around back then, but he knows for sure they aren’t around now.

Anyway: he remembers how Louis yelled at his friends and then yelled at Harry some more. And Harry yelled at him, and told him what a sad excuse of a father he would become. He remembers accusing Louis to become an even worse father than his own, cause at least Troy had had the decency to vanish and Louis would just stick around to ruin that kid’s life, because that was what he did, he ruined people’s lives. Harry’s super regretful now. But what’s done is done, he supposes.

His physiologist says he gets those vivid memories while asleep cause the trauma is grounded in his heart. He asked her once if that were normal… If _he_ were normal, because… “ _Some people go to war, and some people have been abused. Is my case really that traumatic?”_ He can still see her kind smile when she responded: _“but oh, dear, is there a bigger trauma than love?”_. He recalls being astonished by her answer. _“Love’s our biggest weapon, you know? It’s also the best medicine in this world.”_

According to her, only love would fix him again.

 

There’s this insistent noise under his pillow. Harry realizes his phone is beeping and the screen is too bright. His eyes are hurting too, but he squeezes them so he can read the text. It’s Louis’s.

**I’m glad we’re not a heartbreak story anymore. Morning, Hazza. Sun’s up.**

Harry smiles involuntarily and gets so ridiculously happy that he almost forgets he’s still sweating because of his nightmare. It’s like Louis is both his ruin and his blessing.

The message is from ten thirty am and it’s almost midday. Is Harry crazy or the roles are reversed? Was Louis actually up before noon and is Harry still in bed after nine am? Jesus.

It’s not any bed though. It’s his bed. The one he’s slept for so many nights with Louis’ arms around him protecting him from the cold – on nights he didn’t have nightmares. He wonders if he’ll have those nights again, not only in the flat but also at the house… He doesn’t even know how their bedroom looks anymore. He’s not sad, he’s… Expectant. He _wants_ to know how their bedroom looks now. He wants to wake up late on that bed too (is it still the same? Probably not). Harry realizes that after pushing it aside for over three years, he can finally admit to himself he wants to wake up with Louis again.

He rolls to his other side and faces a big mirror by the bed (he and Louis put it there because they looked _so damn good_ having sex) – he laughs. He can see a picture frame on his bedside table. He and Louis were in the Bahamas in a waterfall and took a terrible terrible selfie – it was perfect. On Louis’ bedside table there’s another one, from Jay’s wedding. Lou had taken it and said how handsome the both of them looked. They were very happy too.

 

Getting up is a hard task being _that_ comfortable, but he makes an effort and finally does it, making his way to the bathroom only to realize that although Louis’ kept the house clean and intact, he didn’t keep it stocked – there had been no need until now. There isn’t any soap or shampoo and conditioner, so Harry can’t take a shower. He notices their toothbrushes are still there, though, but using his old one would be disgusting. It’s been four years.

He makes his way to the kitchen and puts all of the dirty stuff in the dishwasher, smiling like this is something he does every day. It’s so Louis to make a mess and not clean up that he almost feels like they’ve just gotten back from tour and this is their first week home. His heart aches a bit.

 

It’s a pretty good Sunday if he says so himself, but an emotional one too.

After cleaning up the kitchen and replying to Louis’ text, Harry calls Niall to let him know where he is and _no, I haven’t slept with him_ – but not because I didn’t want to, he thinks. He then proceeds to open all the windows and let the weak sunlight in, trying to make the place a bit happier. Not that it isn’t already, cause this flat is filled with many great memories.

Harry walks around the place checking on the rooms and is not surprised to see that nothing’s changed. This says a lot more about Louis than the words he hasn’t been speaking – but Harry needs to hear, somehow.

The thing is, Harry’s always been the transparent one in the relationship.

There were countless days and nights in which he almost needed to drag the words out of Louis mouth in order to understand what was going on in his head, and even though now he seems a lot more willing to share his piece of mind with Harry, it’s still not enough, cause Harry needs to _hear_ it. So far, Louis has said many variations of “I’m sorry, I deserve whatever you throw my way”, but Harry also wants to know how he’s dealt with everything, he wants to know why Louis has kept everything the same – cause “I couldn’t let you go” is a too short of a sentence.

Seeing their space like this gives him some answers. Like the house, everything is in its places, and he feels nostalgic enough to go to the spare closet in the guest room and open an old box they’ve kept in there, safe from the world.

Harry sits on the floor and opens it, being hit with a wave of happiness and an overwhelming longing for the old days. He sees him on the stairs of the X Factor with Louis wearing a black blindfold and smiling like an idiot. He sees himself staring at that ridiculous boy wanting him more than anything else at the age of sixteen. That’s only the cover of the album. Some fan’s made it and threw it Harry’s way a long time ago – he doesn’t even remember when.

It’s amazing how so many people picked up on their love along the years. People used to say that if he and Louis weren’t real, then they had created the most beautiful love story of all times, and- just the fact that people _weren’t wrong_ makes him want to cry. _Were they_ the most beautiful love story? Are they? Can they still be?

Can they get passed everything and love each other so carelessly again?

There are a thousand questions floating around his mind and each page of this scrapbook is a reminder that _that_ kind of happiness exists. That kind of contagious, unbelievable love can be real. And he cries a bit – not necessarily sad, just… _Affected. Moved_ by his past _._

 

Harry then makes an unconscious decision to move back in when he puts on his clothes and goes to the supermarket to buy some bathroom and kitchen stuff, and spends thirty minutes on the phone with Gemma, who has finally admitted she was waiting for him to decide to _try again_.

“I honestly don’t know why you guys haven’t talked to me before, like-” he says trying to read the sodium quantity on a cookie. He’s missed eating bad stuff for his health, but he still wants to live on his diet, thank you very much.

“You had to figure it out for yourself, you knobhead”, she replies, “plus, everything has its time, right?”

“Y-yeah, I suppose.”

“Hey, H-” she calls excitedly, “I got engaged last night!”

“What?” He almost drops the six pack of mineral water he’s putting on his shopping cart.

“YEAH!” She screams and laughs loudly. “I’m in Paris, by the way.”

“Oh, thanks for telling me”, he tries to contain his smile. Why do important things always happen to him in supermarket aisles? “But- how was it? Like. Gems”, he almost cries, “congratulations.”

“Thanks, love”, she sounds emotional too, “we’re staying here for a bit and then I’ll go to Dubai with him for two weeks, but… We’ll head home then, and by home I mean Holmes Chapel… To have a proper dinner with mom and all… Hopefully you’ll be there?”

“Yes, of course”, he smiles.

“Harry?” Someone calls him. “Oh my God, Harry!” A girl- well, a young woman says. “Oh, sorry”, she seems totally embarrassed when she sees he’s on the phone.

“Oh- hm, Gems, I gotta go. Talk later yeah?”

“You were spotted?” She asks bored.

“Yep.”

“Fine, laters. Love you.”

“Love you too”, he answers but she’s already hung up the phone. “Hi”, he turns to the woman who’s shyly waiting a few feet from him.

“I’m sorry- I- I didn’t know you were on the phone, _oh God_ ”, she says. “I just- I’ve been waiting to meet you for a really long time.” She shrugs.

“Well then, nice to meet you”, Harry smiles. “What’s your name?”

“Sarah”, she shakes when she answers. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess… My seventeen year old self totally thought my twenty four year old one would be a bit better, but oh.” She laughs. He does too.

“Age’s just a number, isn’t it?” He asks putting more water in the cart.

“I suppose”, she shrugs. “Could I- hm, get a picture?”

Harry agrees, cause of course he does. He takes her phone from her hands and they get together for a selfie. He snaps three, just to be sure. He still hates selfies with a passion, but he’s gotten used to them. She then asks cautiously for a hug.

He hugs her, she cries.

 _How do you handle them crying? It kills me_ , Louis had said once after a Meet and Greet.

“It’s okay”, she says in a soothing voice, “hey- it’s fine.”

“No, I’m- just- like. Thank you.”

“’S just a picture”, he smiles.

“No, not that”, she replies. “Well, that too, but you just… You got me through some pretty rough shit back in the days”, Sarah tells him. “You guys- but I guess you, more specifically, were the only right thing in my life.”

He frowns. “What was wrong?”

“Everything else”, she sheds a tear and cleans it right away, seeming a bit embarrassed. He figures it’s better if he doesn’t comment on it.

“It got better though, yeah? You’re good now?” He asks instead.

“I am”, she smiles. “Finished uni, got a job. It got better”, Sarah says. “Thank you for making me believe it would.”

“I never did anything”, he shrugs and smiles. “But I’m glad to hear you say that cause… It does. It does get better.”

She thanks him again and leaves him to finish his shopping, but he’s kind of taken aback after that and just grabs some few essentials to get out of there. He doesn’t know why, but her words crept into his mind and took him to a time where people would tell him he’d be better eventually and he couldn’t believe them. And he’d hold on to every song that would tell him to move forward. Being the person who sings it for someone is something he’ll never truly get used to.

 

-

 

It’s Tuesday when he sees Louis again.

He’s spent the entire Monday on a meeting setting dates and locations for his interviews in the next couple of months around Europe. He also talks to Jeff and he promises he’ll visit soon. At night, he goes back to Niall’s flat to get his clothes and Niall pretends he’s not having a meltdown when Harry says he’ll move in back to his – and Louis’ – old flat.

            “Need me to drive ya there mate?” Niall asks when Harry’s finished.

            “That’d be good, yeah”, Harry smiles.

            “You actually have perfect timing”, he says grabbing the car keys, “’m going to LA tomorrow, was going to tell ya to stay here but. Well.”

            “What are you gonna do in LA?”

            “Have a meeting with Ariana, she said she wanted me to produce her new album… Gonna see if it’s gonna be a good fit.”

            “Whoa, that’s amazing”, Harry says genuinely excited. “Any chance you’ll be free when I start recording my second one?”

            “I’ll try and keep my schedule free”, Niall jokes and they get in the car.

 

            **It’s hell outside the studio, no idea why.** He reads Louis’ text when he’s about to go downstairs and flag cab. And then he remembers his bodyguard’s in town and gives him a call.

 

            “How d’you have car?” Harry frowns when Peter parks behind his building.

            “Joshua arranged it”, Peter answers. Joshua is Peter’s boss. Harry’s tour manager. “Said you should buy one as long as you’re here, by the way, if you don’t want me baby-sitting you the whole time”, he rolls his eyes.

            Peter’s a nice thirty year old blond dude with a fiancée back home. He misses her when they’re away, but he never complains. He gets drunk with Harry when Harry’s alone and he listens to his ramblings and unfinished songs. He’s to Harry the equivalent of what Alberto was to Louis. Or is. Harry has no idea of what’s happened to Alberto.

“I’ll buy one this week…” Harry assures him. “Called you cause Lou says there’s a mob outside his studio.”

“Lou as in… Louis Tomlinson? _The_ Louis? Your Louis?” He must’ve said something when he was royally drunk about Louis once or twice or twelve times. But that’s the first time Peter asks who “the Louis” is. Harry nods in agreement. “So, he’s gay then”, he says. “Always knew.”

“He is”, Harry says. “He’s not out yet, so- I’d appreciate if you-”

“Harry, I’m under a contract, not even if I wanted to”, Peter says, “which I don’t, by the way.”

“Ok. Good.”

“I’m sorry, man.”

“For…?”

“The past few years.”

“Oh.”

“It’s just… Some things make sense now”, he shrugs. “None of my business, though, but- yeah, I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, man.”

            The rest of the ride is silent, except for when Harry asks about Mia – his fiancée – and offers to pay for a ticked for her to come to London while he’s here. Peter says he appreciates it and he’ll let Harry know when the distance gets too much. Ten minutes later they’re arriving at 78 Productions’ building.

            A _mob_ might’ve been a bit of exaggerating, but yeah, there are a lot of people outside. Harry texts Louis to let him know he’s arrived and waits till two guys in black suits come out towards his car. People start screaming once Peter opens the door and Harry comes out, though. And they’re screaming for so many things, Harry figures. Harry’s there. Harry’s back in London. Harry’s going inside a studio. Harry’s going inside _Louis’_ studio.

            There are no paps – yet –, but he knows he’s being photographed and recorded. He stops for a group picture that turns into three group pictures cause not everybody could fit into one. They fire multiple questions at him, but he’s able to leave them unanswered until he gets inside.

            Louis is already there with a smile on his face. Harry first introduces himself to the two security guards that just shielded him and thanks them. He also introduces Peter to Louis. Louis gives him a onceover that makes Harry want to smile and kiss him silly. He only does the first and says “hi, Lou” cheerfully.

“Hi, H”, he replies, “sorry for that outside.”

“Had worse”, Harry shrugs and Peter makes a noise in agreement.

“Hi, man, what’s up?” Louis holds his hand out for Peter to shake.

“Good, getting to know London…”

“You can, actually”, Harry tells him. “I’ll text you when I need to go out. Gonna spend some time in here.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, man. Go take some pictures for Mia”, he smiles and assures him. Louis breathes a little better when he has the confirmation that Peter is straight. Harry finds him ludicrous and is also completely endeared.

Peter thanks him and says he’ll be there any time Harry calls. Louis says goodbye and leads Harry inside.

“How did they know I was coming?” Harry asks referring to the fans.

“Oh- they didn’t”, Louis replies, “ _I_ didn’t know the 5SOS guys were coming… They’re in Liam’s office.”

“Haven’t seen them in forever.”

“It’s only Ashton and Luke though… They have a little more than a week before their tour stars in the US, but Liam had they come to sign some stuff.” Harry nods as Louis walks in front of him leading them to Liam’s room.

Harry looks around the corridors taking in the space a lot better than the first time – when he was so fucking nervous he couldn’t even think straight.

It’s a great party when he enters. Ashton jumps on his back while he’s hugging Luke, and he just smiles broadly greeting them and then Liam, making himself comfortable on an armchair.

They all spend the afternoon together. Both Ashton and Luke tell different funny stories about the tour and how crazy it is to be an adult in the industry, actually having a say in the matters. The both of them actually _thank_ Louis and Liam at some point for being so amazing to them, and Harry feels like he’s gonna burst with pride.

He always knew Louis was going to succeed in the management business, but he never actually thought he’d be this big. He has two major artists, some fucking promising ones from what he can already tell and it just seems like the beginning for him. He’s also glad he has friends around him 24/7, people who have known him from the start – that’s the thing Harry misses the most being in LA, he guesses.

“Hey, who’s up for FIFA tournament?” Luke asks.

“Yeah, Lou, let’s get that thing working in your office”, Liam encourages.

“We were supposed to be working today”, Louis warns raising his brows causing a wave of laughter. “Harold here hasn’t played in a long time”, he says already getting up.

“Better then, we’ll kick his ass.” Luke smiles and they all follow Louis to his own room.

“Oh no, you won’t”, Harry tells him and winks on Louis’ direction. “Nobody can beat the dream team.”

Harry doesn’t miss the grin on Louis’ face nor does he miss Liam hugging him briefly. He rolls his eyes fondly and places himself on Louis’ couch, the same spot from a month ago. Everything’s so different already that Harry catches himself thinking about the miracles time can work.

But maybe it isn’t about _time_. Cause time hasn’t fixed a single thing. He’s spent three years being as hurt as the first day. Time only made the anger go away, but time’s also made the feeling sink in. Time’s left everything else: the memories, the pain, the lack of trust. What’s changed is Harry. And Louis, he supposes. Time hasn’t worked shit. _They_ are working.

It’s not about how much time passes, but what you do in this time. Harry has made more progress in one month than he’s had in years and countless therapy sessions. He supposes he’s finally letting love mend him again.

 

The dream team loses. Liam’s about to tell them they should ask for a rematch when Louis says he’s tired, they both need practice and they should take a raincheck on it. The boys agree, saying it’s getting late and they want to get back to their hotels to rest to go out tonight. Harry doesn’t miss the relief in Louis’ face. It’s not that he doesn’t want to spend time with them; it’s that he wants to spend time with _Harry_.

Harry can relate. He’s dying to have Louis alone. And he gets his wish fifteen minutes later after Luke and Ashton leave. Liam says he’ll check on Normani cause she’s been with two producers recording for hours and still hasn’t gotten her song right. Louis tells him to schedule a meeting with her the next day cause he has a song he’d like for her to sing.

“Really?” Liam asks him kind of surprised. Louis nods. “You never- I mean, unless it’s Zayn, you never-”

“Let anybody see or sing my songs, I know”, he says, “but I have this one hiding in my drawer for forever now… And it needs a female voice. She’s a great singer, she’ll… She’ll get it. I hope.”

“Do I know the song?” Liam asks. Harry watches the exchange expectantly.

“Nobody does”, Louis shrugs. “It’s… From before?”

“Before…? Oh. Oh. Okay, Tommo. We’ll see it tomorrow. Ten am good?” Louis grunts. “Perfect. Bye, Hazza.”

“Bye, Liam.” Harry waves and smiles and then turns to Louis. They both burst out laughing and Louis laughs with his whole body, bending and leaning on his desk for support.

“How old are we?” He’s still laughing when he asks, turning to Harry. They were both acting like to desperate teenagers to be alone. “God”, he scoffs and Harry walks towards him, trapping him between the desk and his own body. “Hi”, Louis says smiling.

“Hi”, Harry says and kisses him. Louis returns it immediately, pulling Harry impossibly close by the waist and opening his mouth so their tongues can finally tangle in heat and passion and _need_.

Louis lets out a whine when Harry presses closer and he’s _so_ glad to hear it. He’s missed every sound Louis makes – from his obnoxious laughs and remarks to the tiny little noises when their mouths are slotted together and their bodies are pressed to one another. They both tilt their heads for better access and even though their breath is starting to fail, they refuse to separate, only slowing down a bit. Louis brings his hand to Harry’s cheek and they share a few close mouthed kisses before finally pulling apart.

“Been wanting to do this all day”, Louis murmurs in Harry’s mouth. “Didn’t know if we- I mean.”

“Been wanting to do this all day, too”, Harry tells him, their foreheads pressed together. “So, I suppose you haven’t told Liam?” He asks in a low voice, kissing Louis softly on the lips, and then on the corner of his mouth and finally on his cheek, just for good measure.

“That we kissed?” Louis asks, “no. But I guess he knows anyway. I haven’t been this happy in forever.”

“I told Gemma”, Harry confesses.

“I told mum”, Louis shrugs. They both smile. “She says hi, by the way.”

“Say hi back- actually- don’t. I’ll say hi back.”

“Okay”, Louis smiles and brings his arms up, crossing them around Harry’s neck. “She’ll like that.”

“Hm”, Harry hums. “Oh, Gemma’s engaged.”

“Really?” Louis’ eyes widen. “Oh wow. Congratulations to her.” He says and Harry pecks his mouth again. Just because.

“Lou- what’s-”, Harry hesitates, but Louis waits for him to continue. “What’s _before_? Like, you told Liam the song’s from… Before.”

“Oh”, Louis says, widening his eyes a bit again, “it’s- hm. Okay. So. I had a denial phase?” He kind of asks. “I had a denial phase. When I thought I’d be able to forget you one day- or, like, one day you would come back. There are songs from that phase that I burned, cause they were utterly terrible…” He laughs. “And there are some that I kept. Zayn recorded one, he’s the only person I trust with my lyrics and-”

“And now you want, hm, Normani? To record this other one. Why now?”

“Now you’re here”, Louis shrugs, “I don’t feel like a lunatic anymore.”

“Will you show it to me?” Harry asks.

Louis seems to think for a while and then kisses him tenderly, before freeing himself from Harry’s arms.

“No”, he decides, “not now. It will really sound better when she sings.”

“But-”

“I have something else to show you though…” He bargains.

“A song?”

“Wrote it on Saturday. Well, it was actually Sunday already, but- as soon as I got home from the flat.”

“Really?” Harry smiles.

“Really”, Louis mirrors his smile. “C’mon…” He grabs Harry’s hand. It’s a small act but they both shiver. It’s been _so_ long that something so simple and natural happened to them. The warmth of Louis’ hand was still the same and it still fits in Harry’s like it’s made just for him. [A/N: *your hand fits in mine like it’s made just for me* *sobs*]

They walk past two rooms until Harry sees a piano on a corner of one of the music rooms. Louis tells him they use it for rehearsals, but he likes to go there to practice since he rarely touches the piano at the house.

“I’m still not sure about the melody…” He starts, sitting in front of the piano, “and- like. I haven’t sung in quite some time now, so y-yeah, my voice’s pretty shit- again.”

“Your voice’s always been amazing, Louis”, Harry argues. “Just- sing it, yeah?”

His heart already racing, but he pretends he’s patient when Louis organizes the sheets of paper in front of him. And he’s right, he’s still not sure about the melody, cause he hums for almost five minutes trying to get it right, and only that makes Harry want to cry and thank him. Whatever it is, he knows it’s going to be amazing. Cause Louis is amazing.

 

“ _The best thing about tonight’s that we’re not fighting…”_ He starts. Finally. Harry’s breath hitches. _“Could it be that we have been this way before? I know you don’t think that I am trying… I know you’re wearing thin down to the core_.”

Louis is opening up. Right in front of him. Fuck.

“ _But hold your breath, because tonight will be the night that I will fall for you over again, don’t make me change my mind or I won’t live to see another day, I swear it’s true, because a man like you is impossible to find… You’re impossible to find._ ”

Louis looks at him and misses a note on the piano. Harry doesn’t care. He’s already crying. He was so not ready for this.

 _“This is not what I intended_ ”, he shrugs staring at Harry, like he’s apologizing, like he’s crying three years of apologies and for the first time Harry feels the urge to say _it’s okay, Lou_. “ _I always swore to you I’d never fall apart… You always thought that I was stronger…_ ”, but he’s not. Harry’s learned a while ago how vulnerable Louis can be. _“I may have failed but I have lo-_ “, he sobs, “ _loved you from the start_.” Louis is crying. A lot. Harry doesn’t know what to do. “I’m sorry- I”, his words are caught in his throat and fuck it if Harry won’t hug the hell out of him.

He sits by his side on the bench and Louis rests his head on Harry’s shoulder. And sobs. He doesn’t seem able to contain it and-- and Harry loves him right here. Right now. He loves him and he wants to protect him and he wants to make the pain go away and he wants to let Louis know everything will be all right.

“I’ve-”, Louis starts, still shaking. Harry runs his hand up and down his arm. “I’ve cried a lot on Zayn’s shoulder. And Liam’s, and mum’s, and Stan’s. And… And I just really needed to cry in your arms.”

“I’m here now”, Harry assures him. “I’m here, Lou.”

“Thank God”, he cries out.

“Finish the song”, Harry asks quietly. “Finish _my_ song.”

Louis breathes in and out twice before picking up the melody from where he’s left off.

“ _So breathe in so deep… Breathe me in, I’m yours to keep. And hold on to your words, cause talk is cheap… And remember me tonight when you’re asleep.”_ The melody slows down again, the notes are so far apart that it’s almost acapella.

Louis has never believed in himself like the fans have, like Harry has… But he can do this thing with his voice, this thing that no one else can in which he _breaks_. He breaks his voice in a way that makes people _feel_ every single word he’s singing. He makes people believe his words because they are always true. Because that’s the only way he’s able to express his feelings.

He sings with his heart. And Harry understands Louis’ heart better than anyone.

 _“Because tonight will be the night that I will fall for you-- over again… Don’t make me change my mind or I won’t live to see another day, I swear it’s true. Because a man like you is impossible to find. You’re impossible to find_.” Louis finishes.

 

Harry already knows this is going to be his first single of his next album.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Louis may have failed but he has loved him from the start. Never forget that.  
> (And this goes for real life as well.)
> 
> (By the way, the lyrics are from an amazing song called Fall For You, by Secondhand Serenade. You should check it out!)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, this took longer than expected, I'm sorry. Life's a bit crazy right now.
> 
> Thank you for your patience, and comments, and kudos. It means a lot <3

 

 

“Lou”, Harry calls. “Lou, look at me.”

            Louis raises his eyes from the piano keys and looks at Harry, but it’s a slow process. He first looks at Harry’s hands resting on his lap; then he moves to his torso, neck, pauses for a little on his mouth and then looks at his flushed and wet, because of the tears, cheeks and finally, finally finds Harry’s eyes.

            It’s not that Louis is ashamed of the song, he knows it’s a good one and even though he fucked up a few notes, he sang it okay-ish. It’s that he feels naked, and Louis hasn’t been naked in front of Harry for a long, long time.

            Harry seems to be in awe. Whatever he’d been looking for in Louis’ eyes since they saw each other a little over a month ago, he seems to have found it.

            “There were times I’d go into the studio in LA to just torture myself and mope around cause I couldn’t finish a song”, Harry starts. “And I’d remember how easy the words would come for you… You were always just so… Inspired.”

“’S cause I had you”, Louis interjects and then shrugs, not actually looking into Harry’s eyes. “Every song I’ve ever written is somehow about you.”

“No- I… I know that”, he half smiles, “and what bothered me the most was that unless I was writing about you, I- I’d have to do a collaboration…” he laughs now, not happily, just… Reminiscing. “You inspired me so much and I was so desperate do get rid of you…” Louis winces at that. “I now envy the way you let yourself feel…  And I- I love the way you let yourself feel for me. Thank you.” Harry stops and takes Louis’ hand in his. “I just saw you for the first time after three years, Louis. And it’s overwhelming”, he confesses. “And I’m… I’m letting myself feel too.”

“And how’s that?” He asks because he has to. Even if he’s scared to death of the answer.

Harry said he’d just saw him, and Louis knows what he meant, he just doesn’t know if it’s a good thing. He’s been filled with darkness for such a long time that he’s afraid of what Harry’s seeing now – but he also knows that if he doesn’t show it to him, he won’t show it to anybody else.

“It’s beautiful”, Harry beams and brings his other hand to Louis’ face, thumb stroking lightly against his cheek. “You’re beautiful.”

“I’m a mess”, Louis sniffles and laughs a bit.

“But you’re my mess, aren’t you?”

“I am”, he smiles feeling his cheeks reddening, “I really am”.

“Louis”, Harry laughs throwing his head back, seeming completely endeared. Louis has no idea why. “Four years ago you would’ve given me so much shit for being this cheesy. What’s happened?” He asks still smiling big.

Louis laughs too. Harry would be completely right, except…

“Four years happened. I’ve missed you so much that even your cheesiness and horrible jokes fill my heart with joy, Harry Styles”, Louis replies.

            “Oh, Lou”, Harry beams at him again and they hug. Louis rests his head on the crooke of Harry’s neck and inhales deeply while Harry strokes up and down his arm, still holding Louis’ other hand.

            Louis has always thought it was ridiculous when people would describe somebody’s scent as their favorite smell, but just because he had always believed a person smelled like their soap or their perfume, and if someone else wore the same thing, they’d smell exactly the same.

            Harry though… Harry has his _own_ smell. Louis realizes that after almost ten years knowing him. He breathes him in now and he tries to compare it to something else. He tries to name a body lotion or a conditioner that made him smell this way, he tries to remember someone else smelling like this and he just… Can’t.

            Because under the already weakened Tom Ford’s scent, there’s only Harry. Louis smiles unconsciously, feeling a bit embarrassed for ever doubting someone could be _his_ favorite smell, cause it makes sense, at the end of the day: Harry’s his favorite everything – as sappy and cheesy and _unLouis_ that may be.

 

            He doesn’t know how long they stay there together by the piano. Harry makes Louis play _their_ old songs – the ones they wrote for One Direction and the ones they wrote for themselves, that they never got to sing to anybody else apart from very few selected friends on truly special occasions and the ones that Louis used to sing even before meeting him. “Look after you is still one of my favorites, Lou”, Harry says to convince him to play. Louis hasn’t played it in forever, but he does it for this boy.

            “D’you- d’you think we could try and write together again?” He asks.

            “I do?!” Harry answers. “I guess”, Harry says, getting up from the bench and stretching his back. Louis can hear it cracking. “D’you have any ideas?”

            “Not yet, no”, he replies getting up too, “but I think it’d be good.”

            “It would”, Harry smiles and then yawns. “Sorry, what time is it?”

            “Hm- it’s…” Louis looks for his phone. Oh. “It’s midnight.”

            “Already? What the fuck?” Harry laughs in disbelief and looks at his own phone.

            “No wonder I’m starving”, he says. “You hungry?” Harry nods. “Would you- would you like to grab something to eat? If you aren’t too sleepy, I mean.”

            “Like- on the street? At a restaurant?”

            “It’s late”, Louis ponders. “But only if you want to, if you don-”

            “You want to- like, go out with me?” Harry asks as if to be sure. “Like, out out?”

            “Out _out_ ”, Louis confirms. “Is that okay?”

            It takes Harry 0.2 seconds to reply “yes”, but his smile falters. “But, like- what if there are fans? Or just, like, people who recognize us?”

            “It’s very late.”

            “We still may run into people.”

            “Then we say hi…?”

            “And you’re okay with that?”

            “I really am, Harry.” He responds truthfully.

            Louis has talked to his publicist about coming out and has decided that it’ll happen naturally. It’s 2019 for God’s sake, why make such a big deal about it? Like he’s already said, it’s not like he’s been _hiding_ it anymore, it’s just that he hasn’t found a reason to do so over the past few years. The original plan was to do it with Harry. Maybe he can get back to it.

            _There may be backlash, Louis_ , Ryan warned him during lunch the day before. And the thing is: he knows that. He knows there may be some old fans that will get angry at him for having lied for so long. There may be fans that _knew_ it already and who will get angry anyway because for long they were treated as crazy, as a _conspiracy_ or a _cult_ as it has been said.

            The only difference is: he isn’t scared this time. Maybe because he really is a grown up now – a businessman, a father, a real adult; maybe because he’s been through so much pain that nothing else can hurt him. Or maybe because he’s got Harry back in his life, and Harry makes him strong.

           

            Louis checks around the building to see if there’s anyone recording, but only finds Sam working on some editing stuff. He introduces him to Harry and tells him to rest a bit, the equipment will still be there the next day.

            “We need to finish it, L, the single needs to be out next month”, he reminds him. And yeah, that’s right. Normani’s about to finish recording her first CD, to be released right after Zayn’s, so they can tour together – she being his opening act.

            “Okay”, Louis sighs heavily. “Lock it up when you leave, will ya?”

            “Not leaving… Richard’s meeting me in the early morning and will try to have it done for yours and Liam’s approval by midday.” He explains, tired, but smiling.

            “So get yourself some coffee”, Louis laughs. “Night, Sam.” He says and leaves the recording room. Harry waves at Sam and follows suit.

            “L?” Harry asks raising an eyebrow walking towards the lifts. Louis scoffs and laughs. Harry’s ridiculous. “He gay?”

            “You jealous?” Luis teases as they enter the lift and presses Harry up against the wall. Harry rolls his eyes. “You’re ridiculous”, Louis tells him.

            “Was just a question” he does his best to shrug and seem nonchalant as if Louis isn’t with his thigh between his legs pressing right against his crotch pining both of his hands by his side.

            “Hm”, Louis hums. “He is bi, in fact”, Louis answers. Harry’s whimper indulges him to kiss his neck. “I even think he has a crush on me”, he says licking up till his earlobe and biting it lightly, just to tease.

            “Too bad he hasn’t got a chance”, Harry says, already breathy and Louis laughs in his ear. He shivers and the doors open. Louis walks out leaving Harry a bit flushed. “You can not do _this_ ”, he kind of whines behind Louis, walking around the car to get to the passenger side. “You’re the one denying me sex.”

            Louis freezes. And then laughs, too nervous for it to seem normal.

            “I’m not denying you sex, Harry, don’t say it like that.” Louis says as serious as he can, opening the car doors. They both enter at the same time and Harry’s _pouting_.

            “Right”, he sneers. “But… He doesn’t, does he?” Harry asks and _is he serious?_ He is serious.

            “Harold, look at me”, he turns on his side and his eyes level with Harry’s. “He hasn’t got a chance. Nobody does. It’s you in any and every universe”, he says smiling. Harry’s smile is bigger than the world. “Ok, _now_ the cheesiness quota has been reached.” Louis states and pecks Harry’s lips quickly so they don’t have the chance to deepen it. He really is hungry.

 

            They go to a Chinese restaurant that’s open 24/7 three blocks from the studio talking happily about how they need to play videogame together again just to beat the guys, cause it was a pitiful loss, and about their prospects of writing together. 

            Harry tells Louis about the preparations for the tour and how his promo is gonna go down. He tells him about his management and Louis congratulates him, telling him that he, Liam and their team do much like the same, cause they all know personally what it is like to have your life taken away from your own hands and they’d never put anybody through it.

            Louis tells Harry more about Stella. He tells him about her favorite things and how much she wants a pet, but it’s impossible nowadays. He tells him how weird it is to have someone depending on him but how protective he feels all the time and how much she fills his heart with love. Harry listens attentively, asking questions at the right times and making cute comments. Louis had almost forgotten how much Harry _loves_ children.

            They also talk about Gemma’s engagement again and how she’s going to Holmes Chapel to tell Anne. For a second there Louis thinks about mentioning how nerve wrecked Gemma’s fiancée must be, because he remembers how much he was shaking the night he drove by himself to Harry’s childhood town to talk to Anne, Robin and Des about wanting to marry him.

            “Lou?” Harry calls him out of his thoughts. “What are you having?” He asks and then Louis realizes there’s a waiter by their table.

            They place their orders at half past midnight and start eating before one am. The restaurant is calm. There’s a group of friends in one corner and a couple two tables from them. They talk about amenities for a few minutes without being interrupted. And then this big guy shows up by their side.

            “Excuse me”, he starts. Harry’s the first to look up and smile, going into popstar mode. He’s more used to it than Louis nowadays. “Are you two those guys from One Direction?”

            “We are, yeah”, Harry answers.

            “I’m sorry to bother, I know it’s very late”, he says. He’s young. Younger than Harry. Probably twenty, twenty-one, tops. “I was just leaving with my friends and I thought I recognized you so I was telling my boyfriend- I was telling him a story and he told me I should come and say hi.”

            “What’s the story?” Harry asks genuinely interested.

            “My sister was a big fan of the band. She still is, I guess”, he shrugs, “two of you have gone solo, right?”

            “This one here and Zayn.” Louis tells him while pointing to Harry.

            “Right. Hm. Harry”, he says and looks at him. “Did you have a boyfriend in the band? Never mind, this is not the important part. I was fifteen in 2014 and had this huge sexuality crises. I guess we all go through it, but I was really, really scared.”

            “We’ve all been there, mate”, Louis says and he sees the moment Harry’s eyes widen comically.

            “Right, yeah. So I tell my sister first, cause she was seventeen and my best friend- I guess I didn’t have many guy friends back then. Anyway. She told me _it’s okay, Dan, Harry’s gay too and he and his boyfriend are amazing_ ”, he says. “I guess she thought you dated someone in the band, I’m not really sure…”

            Louis stops himself before saying _“he did. Me. He dated me”_.

            “Next year she made me go to a concert with her. I was so embarrassed to be a guy in a One Direction concert”, the guy who Louis figures the name is Dan laughs. “I was sure all of my friends would see the pictures on facebook and call me gay, because, well- that’s what people thought, right? No offense.”

            “Totally non-taken”, Harry says.

            “I went with her anyways and it was like a pride-parade, there were just so many rainbows… And I don’t even think you were out back then.”

            “I wasn’t”, he agrees. Louis can see his eyes are shining. Actually, Harry and the guy look like they’re about to shed a tear or two. This is so not how he expected his night to end, but it’s so amazing nonetheless.

            “Yeah, but- your fans, you had many fans like my sister, they already knew, so they’d take signs and pride flags and… You’d take them and give a speech and it just- that day was awesome. I did not know any of your songs- except for those catchy ones we could never dodge on radio, but I felt okay. And I hadn’t felt okay for years by then. So, thank you for helping me accept that love is equal.”

            “I’m-”, Harry starts. “You’re welcome.” He says. “Thank your sister for me, will you? People like her gave me strength back then.”

            “Us”, Louis catches himself saying. “People like her gave us strength.”

            “You gay too?” The guy asks.

            “I am”, Louis says. Harry grabs his hand on the table.

            “She was right all along?” Dan asks delighted. “Oh, boy.” He laughs. “I’ll leave you guys to it, then. I just really wanted to thank… You both, I guess.”

            “Thank you, man”, Harry says and gets up to give him a half hug. Louis does the same and Dan leaves to meet a guy at the door, who Louis believes to be his boyfriend. “Louis”, Harry turns to him when they sit again, squeezing his hand really tight.

            “I can’t believe the impact you have on people’s lives”, Louis tells him, he’s so, so emotional. “I’m so proud of you, Harry. For… Everything.”

            “Louis”, Harry repeats and squeezes his hand once again.

            “What?” He smiles, but he already knows, because he _knows_ Harry. It’s an amazing feeling.

            “You told him.” Harry says with a shit-eating grin. “You really are serious about this, aren’t you? The coming out thing.” He asks.

            “You’re still scared that I’m not?” He doesn’t let Harry answer. “I’m really serious about you, H.”

            “Thought we had reached the cheesiness quota.” He laughs and raises a brow like he’s defying Louis.

            “Well but aren’t you my only exception?”

            “Shut up”, Harry laughs louder. Louis loves this sound. But what he loves the most is how soft his face gets right after it, when he needs to yawn cause it’s almost two in the morning.

            “Need a ride to Niall’s?”

            “I’ve actually- hm. Stayed at the flat? Like- am staying there. Would you mind if I- erm, moved in?”

Apparently he already has, and Louis is so happy. Harry wants to live there again. Harry doesn’t want to suppress their memories anymore. Harry’s not running away either. Louis can barely believe they’re in sync. But he’s also kinda sad or just… A tiny bit disappointed. Cause…

“You don’t have to ask”, Louis says, signaling to the waiter asking for the check. “And you’ve never moved out.”

“Guess you have a point. It just feels weird.”

“Living there?”

“No, living there feels awesome. That’s what’s weird.” Harry explains. Louis doesn’t understand. And he was never the slow one in the relationship. “I guess I hadn’t realized how awesome life in London could be.”

Louis can’t even offer a “that’s great, Hazz” before they start fighting about who’s going to pay. Of course it doesn’t make any difference to any of them, because money hasn’t been a problem since their first real paycheck, but they used to bicker about it all the time – not the house bills or the trips, but the dates, oh, the dates had always been serious business.

 _If you want to pay you ask_ me _on a date_ , Harry would always say when Louis insisted on paying after they’d gone to a restaurant Harry had proposed. They do this dance for less than a minute before Louis says the same thing and Harry shuts up. They leave the restaurant together smiling like two idiots remembering the time they’d split the bill in Mexico because they had both asked each other out.

Louis registers the pap before the flash, cause he knows the guy. He used to stalk them all the time and they can’t even calculate how much money Modest has spent on him in order to never publish pictures. He’s crossing the street towards his car when he warns Harry and Harry looks to the side, so the camera doesn’t catch his face.

“Still can see your face, Harry”, the guy says. Louis thinks his name is Thomas.

“Got nothing to hide, mate”, Harry replies. “But I’m not about to get blinded by your flash.” Louis is already getting inside the car.

“You guys back together then?”

“Goodnight, Thomas”, Harry says entering the passenger seat and shutting the door so Louis can start the car. “Remember him?” Louis nods. “He’ll be disappointed we won’t pay outrageous money this time.”

“He’ll manage”, he shrugs. “I’m sure the papers will want it.”

“God, this will be everywhere tomorrow, won’t it?” Harry rubs his face. His eyes are reddened by sleep. He looks really young right now. Louis doesn’t think before stretching a hand to pet his hair.

“Probably, yeah”, Louis agrees, caressing his curls and then move it down, letting it rest on Harry’s thigh just like they used to do.

They drive silently to the flat. Harry fiddles with the radio stations claiming he can’t listen to his own voice anymore – Louis is still listening to his CD – and settles for Pink Floyd’s _another brick in the wall_. He looks hesitantly at Louis to see if it’s okay. It is. He’s moved on.

 

They were in Japan when Louis first told Harry about his problem with one of Pink Floyd’s most famous songs and Harry wanted to know why.

“You do know it’s ridiculous how you don’t talk to me, right?” Harry complained for the fiftieth time that day.

“I just don’t want to talk, Hazz, leave it.” Zayn eyed them from across the room but didn’t say anything, just pretended to focus on his comic book.

They were at that phase in their relationship in which they had already shared a fucking lot, but Louis still wasn’t willing to give it all. And it wasn’t because he didn’t love Harry enough because in 2012 he was in so deep he already knew he was ruined for anybody else. It was just because his fucked up brain wouldn’t let him give everything, even if Harry deserved it.

And he knew every little thing there was to know about Harry. He knew about his first big gay moment, about how he felt when his parents got divorced and when he won a music competition in his school. He knew all about Harry’s scars – on the outside and on the inside. And he knew, he _knew_ Harry wanted to know about his too, but he just wasn’t ready, he thought.

“Fine, Louis.” Harry huffed.

“Really, Harry?” He turned around. “It’s just a fucking song, why don’t you let it go without making a big deal out of it?”

“Cause it clearly is a big deal.” Harry answered pointedly but didn’t raise his voice. Louis hated so much when he did it.

“I just don’t wanna say anything right now, okay? I thought we respected boundaries.”

“Okay. Consider it respected. You can go now.” Harry said.

“Hazz”, Zayn called him. “Leave it be.”

“Zayn, don’t”, Louis warned him.

“You’re both acting like fucking children and we have an interview in twenty minutes, so you either sort this shit up right now or Harry can suck it up and you deal with it after at the hotel.”

Louis loved Zayn. Like a brother. He was the best person to have around whenever there was a situation like this. Niall was always too laid back and emotional, like him and Harry. Liam was always too thoughtful and over-worried at times. But Zayn was mature, and sane, and objective.

Louis surrendered.

“I’ll give you fifteen minutes”, Zayn said then and left the room.

“It reminds me of my f- of Troy”, Louis said going to sit by Harry’s side on the sofa. Harry raised his eyes from his cellphone. He was probably texting one of his American friends Louis didn’t really like. Or maybe Nick, whom Louis liked _less_ at that point.

“I figured that on my own.”

“C’mon, Hazz”, Louis touched his knee. Harry’s expression softened. “’S not about just me- I mean- the lyrics are”, he shrugged. “A school fuck up, left by his dad who would grow up to have- to need no one or anything. But also-”, he said before Harry could interject. “One day I was listening to it yeah?! Very loud. So mum went and complained a bit. She never complained about my music, but this day she- like, asked me to lower the volume but I was so pissed I told her I wouldn’t. We fought a lot over this stupid song, because of my stupid biological father. It just brings back a bad memory, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry said genuinely and kissed him on the cheeks and then on the mouth, just a firm peck on the lips, holding him by his nape.

Everything was okay and they went on their interview. They were so in sync that on a timing play they were merely milliseconds apart and their fans used it to explain their mirroring over the years.

Later in life Louis told him the complete story of the song. How he had blamed Jay for not having a proper father, how he yelled at her for putting him on sitter duty when he could be going out with Stan and the other guys, how he left the house when she needed to get to work and there was no one to watch Daisy with a fever. He told him how he had apologized a gazillion times later and how he _knew_ she hadn’t deserved all of it, but his fifteen almost sixteen year old self was even stupider than his current one.

Harry understood, of course. He always did. He always does.

“So, we’ve arrived”, Louis says. “Need me to go into the parking lot?”

“No…” Harry says. “Unless you wanna come up?” Harry asks suggestively.

“Nice try”, Louis smirks. “Get out of here”, he squeezes Harry’s thigh and comes closer so they can kiss. “Night, H.”

“Night, Lou”, he whispers and kisses him again.

 

When he gets back home, he texts Harry and gets a picture of a big smile and a thumbs up. Harry’s shirtless in the picture and Louis tries not to focus on his chest or the part of his defined abdomen he can see. Because it’s not mentally healthy. The fact that he’s _denying_ sex to Harry – as he said so – doesn’t mean he isn’t ready to wreck him. Or be wrecked by him. Louis really isn’t picky at this point.

He takes a shower and washes off this tiring, amazing day. He’s mesmerized by the fact that his day was, in fact, amazing. He didn’t speak with Stella today, but he will call her during lunch tomorrow to set up her next visit. But he had a good morning, the weather was warm and the tea was hot and the radio station played good songs. There wasn’t traffic. He spent the day surrounded by friends and his afternoon and night with Harry. He feels good.

He feels better, like he is getting better emotionally speaking, and he feels like he’s healing. Like _they’re_ healing. And he finds out that maybe healing isn’t putting all the pieces back together to where they found them in the first place – because maybe they were never meant to be the same. Maybe they were supposed to move forward, put the past behind and find a way to actually _fall in love_ , slowly, maybe even walk into it, and not crash, like the first time. Maybe they can rise different from when they fell.

 

-

 

It’s Friday when Harry gets a call from Niall asking him to go out to a club. He’s at Lou’s house taking care of Lux while her mother still hasn’t come home from the night before with the boyfriend.

“I thought you were in America?” Harry tries to hold the phone between his ear and shoulder since his hands are full of paint.

“Came back this morning and me and Zayn owe you a night out”, he says cheerfully. When is he not? “Louis can be there too.”

“I’d go anyway, Niall”, he hopes Niall can sense him rolling his eyes. Niall snorts. “I would.” He tries harder.

“Okay, Hazza, is that a yes?”

“Y-yeah, I’ll be there, just text me where”, Harry agrees easily and smiles when he sees Louise entering the living room. Lux runs to hug her. “Hi, Lou”, he says after hanging up.

“Hello there”, she smiles bright. “So, I can see you’re still bossed around by an eight year old”, Lou jokes when she sees the mess in the living room.

“I have been bossed around by her since the day she was born, she has me wrapped around her finger”, he laughs and both Lux and her mom do too. Harry gets up to go wash his hands and sees Lux closing the watercolor recipients. 

“Where’s Pierre, mom?” Lux asks.

“He had to go back to France, dear, we’ll see him next week.”

“Oh, okay. Dad called, asking about Christmas…” She explains and Harry sees the weird look on Lou’s face.

It’s still September, but they need to make plans in advance.

Ever since she moved to France and took Lux with her, things with Tom got a bit awkward, especially because they were – still are, he supposes – very good friends and dealt with divorce better than any couple Harry has ever met. Tom doesn’t like that Lux is living in another country, and Harry suspects that neither does Lux, as a matter of fact. So whenever important dates come up, it’s a bit tense.

“I think I want to spend it here, is that okay?” She asks a bit hesitant.

“Of course, sweetie, we’re coming home for Christmas.” Louise answers without hesitation trying to assure Lux that it’s _okay_ to ask for the things that she wants.

“Are you already thinking about presents, Luxie?” Harry asks trying to lighten up the mood.

“I want a phone, uncle Harry”, she replies pointedly.

“You’ll get that before Christmas, though”, he winks at her, “but, what else?”

Lux smiles big. “Will you be here this time?” She’s a bit shy when she asks. Harry’s heart hurts a bit.

“I will, love”, he promises, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here last year.”

“Or the year before”, she points out. She’s as fierce as her mother. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t lover her with everything he’s got.

“Okay, little menace, isn’t it time to shower? So we can have proper lunch?”

“I’m cooking”, Harry bargains and Lux runs down the corridor leaving him alone to have an adult conversation with her mother.

While Harry cooks they talk about Lou’s night and he almost pukes a hundred times. She argues that if she had to listen to his torrid nights back in the day, he’s obligated to do the same. “You are a mother, for God’s sake”, he fakes outrage and they both laugh at some point.

Lou confirms his suspects that she’s worried about staying in France and jeopardizing her and Tom’s relationship, and more importantly: her and Lux’s. Harry doesn’t really know how to advise. He knows what it’s like feeling good away from home for a while, but he can only imagine how an eight year old feels finally settling down at a place that isn’t her home. Lux hasn’t had the time to actually _live_ in England. He tells Lou that and sees her eyes water a bit. It can’t be easy for her, he’s sure.

“But I have a job there”, she says.

“You have an amazing job there”, he corrects her. “You also have people dying to hire you here”, he completes. “Are you- I mean, are you in love with Pierre?”

“Why d’you ask?”

“Cause that would make it really hard to change countries. Again”, Harry explains. “But if you’re not… A job’s just a job at the end of the day.”

Lou seems to ponder for a while and confesses she’ll need many bottles of wine in the future. He can agree with her on that.

She asks him about the news of the week that are – of course – he and Louis going out for a really late dinner and getting into the same car, and he tells her everything: how they’re trying to work things out, how he’s trying to put the past behind, how he still gets nightmares, but how he’s happy to wake up now, because the bad memories are only bad memories and he’s creating good ones again.

Lux comes back from the shower a while and he prepares the table while her mom brushes her hair. They sit to eat in a comfortable silence once the food’s ready and only talk amenities, but always focused on Lux. Harry helps her pick a song to be her new alarm because she absolutely hates the current one and promises to write her a song for his next CD.

“I hear you’re touring next year”, she comments. Harry hums in agreement. “Can I come?” She asks and both Harry and Lou stare at her. “Will mom be your hair-dresser again?”

“I… Don’t know?” Harry really doesn’t know how to answer. “Why?”

“I miss it.”

“Baby, you don’t even remember most of it”, Lou rolls her eyes.

“Of course I do, mom, I’m eight, not eighty”, she says. Oh. “I don’t remember everything, but I remember I loved it.”

“You have school”, Lou points.

“I can be home-schooled.”

“Where did you learn home-school is a thing?”

“Sarah is home-schooled, she lives next door.”

And yes, Harry knows all about Sarah because Lux spent the morning telling him about how cool her life is. Her dad is a politician; she goes to a lot of new places every month and has her own teacher. _He even teaches her German!_

“We’ll talk about it, yeah?” Harry asks looking between mother and daughter and they both agree. Lou breathes better. Two strikes and it isn’t even one pm. She’s having a hard day.

 

They settle for a movie after dessert, but they only get to watch fifteen minutes of it before Harry’s phone starts ringing. He’s forgot to silent it. Lux takes it from the coffee table to give it to him and raises he eyebrows when she sees the name on the screen. Oh. Louis is calling him. She hasn’t asked anything, but Harry is sure she’s seen the news. She’s on facebook, for God’s sake.

“Hi, Lou”, he says to the speaker.

“Hey. Nail tells me you’ll go out tonight? And I’m invited?” He asks

“Yeah, of course- just don’t know where we’re going yet. Ni said he’d text us.”

Harry can hear the noises in the back and it sounds like a bunch of papers. Louis must be busy.

“Yeah, all right, see you later, curly.”

“Bye- Lou, see-”

“WAIT”, Lux yells and apologizes the second after it happens. Everyone’s startled. “Can I talk to him?” She asks in a low voice.

“What…?” Louis asks from the other side of the line. “Who’s that?”

“Hm… Luxie. She wants to talk to you.” He tells him a bit uncertain. Lou signals that it’s okay.

“O-okay.” His voice falters.

Harry doesn’t know if he’s even seen Lux over the years. He knows Lou has seen and talked to him because of Lottie, he knows she’s given him a hard time as well and knows she’s met Stella three times after the band broke up.

Later he finds out the last time Louis saw her she was six. It’s been two years. And he’s her godfather too. Fuck. He wants to tell Lou she didn’t need to have done that, but that’s not the time, cause he concentrates on what the little blonde girl is saying.

“Hi, uncle Louis”, she speaks shyly. “I’m fine, how are you? … I miss you too. So much”, she says lowering her voice. Harry can hear his and her mother’s heart breaking. “Are you and uncle Harry back together?” Harry hopes Louis isn’t choking. “He looks happier”, she explains. He’d give everything to listen to what Louis is telling her right now. “Hm… I will ask mom one thing, wait”, she says and then puts her hand on the speaker, turning to Lou. “Mom, is it okay if I ask uncle Louis to see him? I really miss him. And uncle Harry talks to him now!”

And. Ok. She’s too young to make that connection that Louis hasn’t been in their lives because of Harry.

The thing about kids is that everyone underestimates them. But kids are so, so smart and so strong. They see things better than the rest of the humans. They understand things better than them too. Lou nods a firm yes, looking at Harry, who’s between beaming and having a little panic attack. Only now he’s realizing how a lot of people got affected by his decision to create an invisible but well defined barrier between him and Louis. Only now he’s realizing how coward he was, even if it were justified most of the time.

He wants to hug Lux and he wants to apologize.

“Can I see you, uncle Louis?”

He says yes. And Harry knows he does because her eyes brighten. “I’ll ask him!” She kind of jumps. “Uncle Harry, will you take me to see uncle Louis on Sunday?”

“Yes, Luxie”, Harry smiles when he answers. He can’t help it.

“Okay, mom?” She checks with Lou, who nods. “See you on Sunday, uncle Louis. I love you.”

And if Harry wants to cry, nobody needs to know. Except for those two people in the room with him, who actually see him tearing up.

“This is the best day”, Lux says and throws herself on the couch with her little legs on Harry’s lap again, pressing play on the movie.

Harry and Lou exchange amazed looks, but don’t have time to talk because a new scene has just started and their eight year old boss shushes them.

 

-

 

Louis may be shaking. No, he is definitely shaking – with happiness. With a sentiment he can’t even name. His heart is full of love and completeness.

His morning had been absolute shit until Niall called him to say they were going out together. There were problems with one of his smaller acts’ contract and he had to deal with them alone because Liam took Sophia to a doctor’s appointment. But then he decided to call Harry to confirm they’re going clubbing and everything’s changed now. Isn’t life great?

He laughs loudly. He doesn’t even remember the last time he’d thought that. But life is pretty amazing right now if he says so himself. And suddenly he misses Stella so much he needs to call her right away.

 

“Hiya, Louis”, Briana’s mother answers the phone.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asks. He doesn’t dislike her, they just aren’t best friends.

They make less than a minute of small talk before she puts Stella on the phone. They talk for fifteen minutes. Louis listens carefully to everything she says and gives her ideas for her drawings and lace colors for her hair. He tells her about uncle Liam’s baby and how they may know if it’s a boy or a girl by the night – she hopes it’s a girl so it can play with her and Louis pinky promises to tell her as soon as possible.

Then she proceeds to tell him all about her new favorite foods and how grandma Jay bought her the _most pwettiest_ dress and she wants to go get it.

“I’ll talk to mom tomorrow so you can come here again, yeah?”

“Rrrreally, papa?” She asks excitedly.

“Rrrrrrealy, princess”, he answers too fondly for his own good. “I miss you a lot.”

“I miss you too.”

“And I have a small friend you will like to meet.” He says thinking of Lux – hoping they’ll be constant presences in each other’s lives again. Hoping Lou will be okay with him for good, now that Harry is. Hoping. Always hoping.

“ _Smol_ friend?”

“Y-yeah”, he says. “Her name is Lux.”

“Lux”, she giggles, “like iiiiit.”

They wrap up the conversation shortly after that and unfortunately Louis has to go back to the real world. He calls three lawyers to a meeting along with Jamie Lawson to try and solve the problems that surfaced in the morning.

Jamie is one of Ed Sheeran’s best friends and has been trying for forever now to make it big in the business. He has released one CD and one EP, but he hasn’t gone global like his ginger friend. Louis knows he never will. But he’s good and he has a good heart and he sells okay nationally, so when Ed called him a year ago, he couldn’t say no.

 

You see:  Louis has a problem with suited people who wear suits. They always seem too good and too nice and to know it all and he absolutely hates it – especially because a huge part of his life was run by them. So any time he has to face them, it gives him the creeps.

His day would be ruined again, if he didn’t know he’d be meeting the guys later. Well, except for Liam, who has decided to go back to Wolverhampton tonight to celebrate with his and Sophia’s friend the new boy coming into the world in five months. Oh wow.

 

 

“Mate, come on, you won’t get hotter than that”, Zayn mocks him for the thousandth time that night. “It’s already ten pm, Louis, for fuck’s sake”, he throws himself on the armchair in Louis’ room waiting for him to finish his hair.

Apart from Ernest (and the maintenance dude), Zayn’s the only guy who’s been there in four years.

“Fuck off, Zayn, I’m going”, he answers. “D’you know how long it’s been since the last time I went clubbing?”

“Long enough that you seem like a teenage boy”, Zayn observes. “Relax, man, you’ll be fine, yeah?” He says and throws on arm on Louis’ shoulders, leading him out of the room.

They drive together in Zayn’s car, because he won’t be drinking tonight. Louis fully intends to get royally drunk, thank you very much. The club is about fifteen minutes from the house and they make small talk on the way. Zayn tells Louis about the new people he’s met and how he’s caught between a woman and a man right now, because he just can’t choose. Louis rolls his eyes and, as a friend, tells him to go for it and enjoy his bachelorhood. As his boss, he tells him to keep it down cause they do not need a scandal.

The thing is: Zayn doesn’t do dating. He has had a few girlfriends here and there and a lot of fun with men, particularly if they’re Italian, but he doesn’t settle down. At least he hasn’t up until now and it’s completely fine. He’s still very young and very much in the game, and even though Louis will never be the one – not the friend, not the manager – to tell him he’ll have to stop it someday or he’ll get caught, he’s always hoping his “be careful” warnings are worth something.

 

When they arrive at the front door of the club it’s already packed. There’s a huge queue outside and they can hear the noise from the street. Louis realizes now they should have brought security.

“I”ll call Alberto and ask him to send two bodyguards just in case, yeah? More because of you than me”, he says, although he _is_ a bit scared for himself too. Not that there’ll be many fans at a nightclub – not of his, at least –, but his image is a bit _out there_ now again.

 

Alberto is his head of security at 78 Productions.

Back in 2015 Louis had thought he’d never want to see the man again after the band split up. He’d suspected there were things he wasn’t telling him and that he didn’t really care about Louis’ personal life, he wasn’t his friend – like he had thought – and couldn’t give a fuck if Louis were hurting or not. But he’d been wrong.

He’d treat Alberto like shit for most of the time, but he’d still be there putting him to bed and assisting him when he needed to get out of an airport, despite Louis’ endless efforts to hell him to fuck off.

Eventually he got over his immature self and understood that he had to rely on _someone_ to take care of him apart from his mother or Harry. Because one was back home dealing with too much already, because of him – mostly –, and the other wanted to keep his distance.

“They’ll be here in ten”, he tells Zayn.

“Do we have to wait for them? Niall’s already inside with H, we could go in and they can meet us there, or when we leave.”

“Fine by me”, he says with nonchalance and texts one of the bodyguards to let him know they’ll be inside of the club and will only need assistance to get out.

Zayn parks his car on the other side of the street and there’s a lot of yelling when he exits it.

 _OH MY GOD_ , someone yells when they approach the club and stop in front of the guards there.

“Hi, mate”, Zayn says.

“IDs, please”, the big guy says. Someone yells ‘THAT’S ZAYN MALIK AND LOUIS TOMLINSON’ from the back of the line and they have the decency to wave in their direction.

“Hm- yeah, Zayn Malik and Louis Tomlinson, we should be under Niall’s name?!” Zayn kind of asks.

“Horan?” The big guy smiles. “Oh yeah yeah, former boy band, his mates, he said you’d come”, the guard says like he’s friends with Niall. And he must be; everyone is.

“Louis please, Louis!” Someone calls and he turns around, there are two girls and a guy third on the line and they’re calling him. “Can we take a picture, please?”

“Hm. Yeah, sure, love, c’mon”, he walks to them and sees their eyes lay on Zayn. “C’mon, Zaynie, one picture”, he calls his friend.

They take three pictures and then go inside, finally.

If someone had told Louis at seven am today he’d end his night with three of the best people he’s ever met, drinking shots and dancing to the latest hits, he would scoff and tell them he’d be lucky if he didn’t have a massive headache by the end of the day and some pot noodles in front of the TV.

Now he’s at the bar waiting for the barman to finish his pink drink cause _it’s just the best_ according to Harry.

They have a private booth on the corner, but it doesn’t do much good since it’s open. Good thing pictures aren’t allowed inside. Not that it matters much, because Louis’ security men have just told him via text message that there are online pictures of him and Zayn entering the club and paparazzi are arriving.

“How come no one saw you guys coming in?” He asks Niall once he returns to the booth with his delicious pink drink.

“Back door”, Niall tells him smiling big and drinking the last of his beer in one gulp.

“Thanks for the warning, mate”, Zayn raises his soft drink and says sarcastically.

They can’t talk much because the music is too loud. So they drink, a lot. They drink and comment on people passing by them. Every now and then Harry waves at someone and Louis never knows if it’s a fan or an acquaintance. They’re laughing at a drunk couple on the floor when Niall has the brilliant idea to take a selfie of _the gang_. They send it to Liam and start reminiscing.

“When was the last time we were at a club together? Like- the four of us?” Harry asks.

“Hm… Somewhere at the beginning of OTRA?” Zayn asks. “I remember we went out together back then- it was like this secret operation, but.” He laughs.

“Yes!” Louis remembers. “Sophia was there. And Gemma, and Lottie. We all went out together.”

“True, that was insane.” Harry offers.

That was also the time Zayn cheated on Perrie (for the hundredth time) and got caught on camera and everything went downhill – but nobody talks about it.

“When was the last time we were at a club together?” He directs his question to Louis. And he knows what Harry means. He wants to know the last time the both of them were able to go out by themselves.

“A long, long time, that’s for sure”, Louis says finishing his drink. Niall magically hands him a bottle of beer that he starts drinking.

He tries to think and he remembers few nights when they were really really young and really really really stupid and wouldn’t care about who caught them together. They were uncontrollable up until the first half of 2012. Then things changed and they tried to continue their shenanigans a bit more in private, but by the end of 2013 it was pretty clear they weren’t allowed to do anything anymore.

The only times they were able to be together in “public” was at home or the most private places Harry knew in Los Angeles.

“I’m glad we’re doing this now”, Louis tells him and Harry smiles, hugging him by the waist. Louis hides his face on Harry’s neck for a second and then they separate again. Niall and Zayn are eyeing them with amused looks on their faces and Louis flips them off with a huge smile. Things are good.

At some point Niall decides to go into the DJ’s booth and Zayn sees a model friend from America, so he excuses himself to go “talk” to her and leaves Harry and Louis to themselves.

“Let’s dance, Styles”, Louis tugs his hand, “it’s too lonely in this booth.”

Harry laughs loudly, already pretty drunk and follows him to the floor. Sweaty bodies move in (and out of) sync and they fit in perfectly. Louis doesn’t remember clearly the last time they danced together and he also doesn’t remember the last time _he_ went clubbing and truly enjoyed it.

During the first year post-Harry, he would work, go to Doncaster and visit Stella. Those were the only activities he was able to master. Even when Stan went to the house to try and drag him out – the nights Zayn couldn’t – he would just stay in and ask if they could play a bit of FIFA.

On the second year, he’d started training with the Rovers again to just keep in shape and would go on endless work out sessions with Liam after work. He also went out a lot. People were telling him he should move on, so he tried hard – too hard at times. He’d only get headaches and stomachaches, but never what he was looking for. What he was looking for was too far gone back then.

On the third year, this year, he accepted his life would be okay. Like he was a Benjamin Button case. He’d had the best, he’d lived life at its fullest, and now he’d just tone down, respect his only _okay_ fate.

“Why d’you seem to be thinking so much?” Harry yells frowning close to his face. They haven’t kissed yet. Louis wants to kiss him. Badly.

“’S nothing”, he says and pushes bad thoughts and memories away, lifting a hand to play with Harry’s curls.

They start dancing to the rhythm of the song and Louis is almost sure it’s one of Bruno Mars’ newest hits, but he can’t figure it out. He doesn’t actually care.

Cause his life isn’t _okay_ anymore. His life right now is in glassy green eyes and deep dimples and messed up hair. His life is right in front of him and it looks _gorgeous_.

 

One thing hasn’t changed over the years: Harry’s weird moves. He waves his arms around and turns on his heels making Louis laugh and try to follow the lead – but it’s useless. They’re too uncoordinated… Until a slower beat comes up and Harry joins their bodies.

The dance floor is even more crowded right now and Louis uses it to press closer, crotches aligned and foreheads bumping every now and then – it’s good, but Harry doesn’t seem satisfied, because he turns Louis around like a ragged doll and presses his chest to Louis back unceremoniously.

If they were two strangers just meeting, they’d probably have a respectable distance between them right now, but they know everything there is to know about each other’s bodies. There’s no line to be crossed, cause they’ve crossed them all many years ago. This kind of familiarity doesn’t go away, Louis finds out.

 

He is sweating. A lot.

Beyoncé is on right now and Harry’s huge hands are on his hips, pulling him so close they could merge into each other’s bodies, and Louis loves it. Harry’s moving in circles and he grinds back just because he can. He closes his eyes and listens to the loud beat of the song, noticing he and Harry have their own rhythm and it’s perfect. It’s more than perfect cause Harry’s breathing hot in his year and Louis throws his head back, almost pleading to be kissed hard. But Harry does everything but.

Louis feels plush lips pressing ever so light pecks on his shoulder through the think material of his shirt and goes insane with the way Harry can go from clumsy twelve year old to sex on legs. He’s holding Louis tight and pressing hard against him, but his kisses are feathery and wet and just… _Crazy_ , this is crazy.

“Harry”, Louis breathes heavily.

“What?” He can hear Harry whisper over the loud music. “What d’you want, Lou?” He drags his mouth to the back of Louis neck and moves the hair on Louis nape away to kiss it there. It’s with a bit more of intent now. Still wet. Still insane. Louis is bursting and feeling like a teenager cause he can already feel his jeans getting tighter by the second.

Harry continues his kissing and Louis throws his head to one side, allowing him to move to his neck and jaw, and at some point Harry decides to leave a bruise there, because he feels teeth nipping on his skin insistently, and it’s just too much. He grinds back and presses his ass as strongly as he can to Harry’s groin and Harry lets out a moan that should be illegal. Louis is pretty sure it’s not that loud, compared to the music around them, but it’s right in his ear. He wants to die.

And oops, Harry’s hard. Like, fully hard. This is ridiculous, Louis shouldn’t be in this situation, he isn’t thinking straight – _well, definitely not straight, haha,_ idiot. He presses back again.

“Louis”, Harry kind of wails.

“Kiss me”, Louis turns and pulls Harry by the front of his shirt, locking one of his hands on his hair and opening his mouth before they even meet in the middle.

Harry doesn’t fight. Of course not, he’s as eager as Louis, it shows. They’re in public. Louis hates public displays of attention (or he’s learned to hate because of media training, he’s not sure), but right now he doesn’t care about anything that isn’t Harry’s hot and smart tongue entering his mouth and sliding on his like their lives depend on it.

Louis does his best not to moan in Harry’s mouth, but it’s pointless. Harry grabs his ass and pulls him impossibly closer, their hard-ons press together and it’s just _too fucking much_.

“Bathroom”, Louis says and Harry’s eyes shoot open, already unfocused and he just nods, grabbing Louis hand and opening space through the crowd.

They walk too fast. Louis barely recognizes the bathroom when Harry says breathily:

“God, come here”, Harry pulls him into a stall and presses him against the wall, kissing him hard and making his head dizzy.

Last time they kissed in a bathroom it was a mistake, this time… This time is just right, and hot, and, wait. “We can’t”, Louis says as soon as he feels Harry’s hands working on his jeans. “H-”, he speaks again, trying to make his voice less raspy. He barely recognizes it, actually.

“Louis, c’mon”, Harry says kissing his neck, he sounds _so_ frustrated.

“H-”

“Louis. You’re not a blushing virgin, neither am I”, Harry argues and bites his neck again and Louis moans cause his body is stupid. “’S not like we’ve never done this”, he continues, “we’ve done this so many times”, Harry says, kissing his collarbones. Louis’ hands are still holding his on the button of his jeans, not letting him move. “Louis.”

Okay. Harry’s kinda pissed. They’re both horny, and drunk. And it’s the third time Louis says no.

“I won’t freak out, okay?” Harry says looking him in the eyes. “I won’t”, he says. “I want this”, he kisses him firmly and moves to his ear, bites Louis earlobe and _why are you doing this to me?_ “I want you.” He whispers.

Louis pushes Harry away and he looks… Hurt. Harry’s eyes leave Louis’s.

“Look at me, H”, Louis asks as calmly as he can, pulling Harry by the waist again and living his hands there. “It’s not… Just about you, okay?” He tries to explain. “Of course I’m scared you’ll freak out, I’m always scared- _but_ ”, he says before Harry can interject. “But it’s more than that. I haven’t been with you for almost four years”, he explains, “and I’ll be damned if the first blowjob I get from you or give you after all this time will happen in a dirty bathroom while we’re both a bit tipsy.”

“It can be a hand job”, Harry smiles coyly and Louis laughs.

“H.”

“Okay”, Harry breathes. “I just-” he says and rests his forehead on Louis’ shoulder. “I want you so much”, he confesses, “it’s ridiculous. After all this time I still… I want you _so_ much, Louis.”

Louis is still holding his waist and uses his thumb to draw circles on his hips, to try and calm him down.

“Same, love”, Louis agrees and brings his other hand to Harry’s curls.

“This is torture”, Harry laughs. “Real torture”, he says looking into Louis’ eyes now. “Why d’you do this to me?” He asks and smiles defeated, caressing Louis’ cheek.

“Because I love you, Harry Styles.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (By the way, come say hi on twitter, if you feel like it: @larryhatesmel)  
> All the love xx.


	15. Chapter 15

 

 

_“You took my hand, you showed me how, you promised me you’d be around – that’s right._

_I took your words and I believed in everything you said to me.”_

            Louis wakes up with a pounding headache. He remembers leaving the bathroom with Harry being awestruck because of their moment and Louis’ declaration, and he remembers Zayn’s face judging them for whatever happened in there – Louis let him think whatever he wanted, cause he was feeling amazing.

Now though… His stomach hurts a bit and he can’t open his eyes without the room spinning. Oh well, he’s never been happier.

            When he can finally reach the bedside table to grab his phone, he sees two missed calls from Ryan – his publicist – and a few emails with links attached. There’s also a text from Briana asking him to call her whenever he can and a picture from Harry, who is running in the park.

            He opens one of the links first, from Yahoo Celebrity UK – he’s always liked them. There are pictures of him and Zayn entering the club and then of the four of them leaving it and getting into the same van with Louis’ security guys.

 _Soooo, what even was last night?_ It starts.

_Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past two months, you know two things: Harry Styles is back in town, One Direction is hot sh*t again. Yep, that’s right. The boy band who is forever our favorite has been separated for a while now, and even though we miss them dearly *sobs*, they have been doing pretty amazing things by themselves, so we’re good._

_And of course we can always catch a glimpse of Zayn, Louis and Liam together, cause they’re still working as a perfect trio on music, because of Tommo’s successful company (we always knew he’d be an awesome business man!), but nothing compares to actually having the_ five _boys doing stuff together. We are hyperventilating._

_It is rumored that there have been a OT5 get together at Pyano’s place a few weeks ago (Niall, we’re waiting for a selfie!) and yesterday we saw Louis, Zayn, Niall and Harry exiting a club at four am. THEY ARE BACK. WE ARE THRILLED. And you know what else? Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson were close. Like: close._

_Larries, are you there? We have risen._

_Now, if you have no idea of what we’re talking about, because you weren’t a fan (which… why?), we suggest you take a look at our archives and dig whatever you can on Larry Stylinson (the name that was given for Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles as a_ ship _, but really: it was almost a religion)._

 _For years the boys were rumored to be in a relationship. Since the beginning we witnessed fond stares with heart eyes and special moments from the youngest and the oldest members of the former group, and of course it never went unnoticed by the devoted Directioners. Fans have gathered enough information to prove that they were, indeed, together (click_ here _to see the Larry 30 Iconic Moments). But then The Tommo had a baby (click_ here _to see beautiful Stella) and even though Harry came out shortly after that, he was never seen in the picture anymore *cries*._

 _It’s 2019 and here we are, back to where we started. Pictures from last night made twitter go crazy because,_ what _? Was that Louis with an arm around Harry’s waist? Was that Harry smiling like a kid on Christmas Eve because of it? Yes. And it wasn’t the first time. Earlier this past week we had pictures of the two of them leaving a restaurant at almost two am and chatting with paparazzi the same day Harold was seen visiting 78 Productions. Whatever is happening: we love it already._

 _Here we leave our most sincerely_ thank you _to all of these boys, and our hopes that we haven’t been_ that _wrong this entire time and Styles is, indeed, always in Louis’ heart. They are in ours._

_All the love, always._

Louis finishes the piece with a dumb smile on his face because of all the old gifs of him and Harry and the pictures of earlier this morning. They do look like a couple and Louis grins even bigger. If he saves one or two or all of the pictures, nobody needs to know. He also sees a few links to old _Larry_ “proofs” and really, was that a thing?

He knows people watched them, but to see it all catalogued like the most complete scrapbook of all times makes his heart ache. He doesn’t read them all, but he sees there’s a special post for fond stares and another one examining all of their tattoos. Unconsciously, Louis passes his fingers through his left forearm, pausing on the only tattoo he made after he and Harry broke up. One day he’s gonna get one for Stella too, he just doesn’t know what to get yet.

 

It’s a huge effort, but he gets out of bed after reading Ryan’s text saying he’ll stop by in a few minutes and makes it to the kitchen to start preparing tea. He calls Zayn and a girl picks up saying he’s in the shower. Then he replies Harry with a picture of a cuppa and Harry asks him if he wants to stop by for pizza later. _See you at night, H_ , Louis answers.

 

“Jesus, Ryan, you trying to kill me?” Louis gasps when he goes downstairs after his shower again. He regrets giving him a key.

“Hello, Louis”, he says smiling, “how are we this afternoon?” Louis groans. He likes Ryan. He also hates him. “Brought you food”, he gestures to the counter.

Ok. Louis loves him. He sits on one of the stools still on his joggers and wet hair and starts eating.

“So?” He asks after chewing his first piece of meat.

“So, have you read anything I’ve sent you?”

“Yes”, Louis tells him.

“And…? What d’you want to do about it?” He asks grabbing his iPad.

“Haven’t we talked about it already?”

“You don’t want to make a big deal, yeah, but Louis, Harry Styles is a big deal. Are you guys back together?”

“I think we are, yes”, he can’t help his smile.

“So, we need a statement.”

“We really don’t.”

“You are a public figure too, Louis”, Ryan reasons, “and you’ve been being secretive about every aspect of your life since day one and- like, I know your life is _yours_ but have you never, like, felt you owe something to your fans?”

And, ok. Louis wants to say no. He wants to say that he’s always given them the love and respect they deserve. He wants to say he’s always been his true self with them and if he hasn’t, it’s because he’s had his reasons. He wants to say that his private life is still private and he doesn’t feel like he needs to shout from the rooftops what’s happening in his love life right now.

Except for the fact that none of that is true, is it?

Cause in the end, those people gave him and Harry so much strength throughout the years. Their belief in them was sometimes bigger and their own beliefs and helped them during dark days and tough nights. Their words and acts of support helped Louis accept himself in the beginning, made him a little bit stronger every day. Those strangers to whom Louis owes nothing are the people he owes the most, if he stops to think about it.

And, actually, he does want to shout from the rooftops that he and Harry are together: that’s what he’s always wanted.

“What kind of statement are you suggesting?”

            “I can release something to the press, you pick a newspaper and we do it.”

            “No interviews”, Louis warns.

            “No interviews”, Ryan guarantees. “A tweet from you maybe?”

            “Fine”, he agrees, “what do I say?”

            “After the statement. You thank people for the support and say you love them.”

            “What about Ella? And Briana? It’ll reflect on them.”

            “We can shelter them from the press, it’s fine”, Ryan assures him. “And you aren’t the first gay guy with a kid. Have you heard of Ricky Martin?” Louis laughs a bit and rolls his eyes.

            Ryan comes up with a pretty nice statement during the afternoon, saying that Louis is, _in fact_ , gay and that he hasn’t been actually _hiding_ for a while, but back in One Direction days it was necessary due to the contracts. He doesn’t acknowledge the Harry thing, because this is about _Louis_ only, but says he’s ‘working on his love life like any person in their middle twenties’ (even though Louis has entered his _late_ twenties phase… He does _not_ want to talk about it).

The statement also asks for people to respect Stella and her mother, and thanks everyone in advance. Louis high-fives Ryan and says he’ll check with his family, Harry and Briana before giving him his final okay.

 

After Ryan leaves, Jay is the first one he calls. She is proud and completely okay with whatever he wants to do. After so many years putting up with all of his shit and the stunts, Louis really does not know how to thank his family anymore. _Honey, you’ve given us everything_ , Jay says. He does not choke when answering her.

Then he calls Briana to let her know and she is not surprised.

“To be honest I was waiting for this call”, she laughs.

“Well- it came”, Louis answers, “I’m sorry I haven’t called earlier, by the way.” He says referring to her morning text.

“’S fine, just want to ask you when I can take Stella… She said you called the other day.”

“Yeah, talked to your mother… Next week, maybe? On the weekend? I can clear my schedule for at least a week and ask mom to come stay with her during my working hours on the other…”

“Works for me”, Briana agrees easily.

Sometimes Louis takes things for granted, like the fact that Briana isn’t a bitch about everything. She could have easily been, but she’s just… Nice.

“I’ll buy your tickets tonight then…”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“We’re so not doing this again”, he rolls his eyes and laughs, “bye, Bri”, he hangs up the phone before she can argue with him.

 

Later that night at their flat – that is now looking like it has always been, like it should always be: inhabited – among two boxes of pizza and a few beers, Louis shows the statement to Harry and says his is the last ‘okay’ he needs for it to go public. Harry cries only a bit before kissing him silly.

For the first time since they started working on their shit, Louis doesn’t think “ _but what if he hasn’t forgiven me yet?”._

 

-

 

“But why can’t we have breakfast at uncle Louis’ house?” Lux asks as soon as she enters Harry’s car without even waiving her mother goodbye.

“Cause he’s probably asleep… And I thought we could get you a phone after eating? I mean, only if you want, of cou-”.

“SERIOUSLY?” Her eyes shine.

“Yeah”, he smiles looking at her through the rearview-mirror. “But first, food.”

 

Harry’s always loved spending days with Lux, since she was a little baby. One of his favorite days is still the first week of October 2011, when she was a newborn. He and Louis drove over to Lou and Tom’s flat at the time and spent the entire day holding her and watching movies. If he searches in his room in Holmes Chapel he might find the pictures of that day. Lux is amazing. Even when she couldn’t even speak, she just brought a sense of peace to him that was unexplainable.

Now she’s eight years old looking at iPhone colors trying to pick one. She claims she wants to follow the little youtubers channels because her friend Katy says they’re amazing and have great tutorials for little girls like them. He can’t help but indulge her.

“Is it okay if I want a pink one, uncle Harry?” She asks.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” He looks at her and smiles, encouraging her to take a better look at it.

“Lottie says we need to _deconstruct social paradigms_.”

Harry tries very hard not to laugh at the way she says _paradigms_ , but he fails once the saleswoman cracks and then says _so cute_ under her breath.

“D’you know what deconstructing social paradigms mean, Luxie?”

“No”, she says and seems to think for a while, little eyebrows frowning, focusing on Harry instead of the phones now. “But she says it means I don’t have to use pink stuff or wear pink all the time just because I’m a girl.”

Ok. He’s impressed she’s even memorized it.

“Yes, it’s correct”, he says. “But do you _like_ pink?”

“Yes!”

“So… Use pink. Wear pink. I love pink”, he offers.

“I want a pink phone, lady”, she directs herself to the blonde woman.

“Carly is fine, dear’, she offers and seems to look for the right box. “How will you be paying, sir?”

“Uh-”

“She called you sir”, Lux puts one hand on her mouth and then laughs. “You’re getting old uncle Harry”, she pats him on the arm.

“Heeeey”, Harry makes sure he says it obnoxiously. “I’m only 25!”

“Old”, she points.

“Is credit card okay?” Harry asks the lady who is watching them with an amused expression and she nods, taking the card from Harry.

“Oh, I thought you were…” She says more to herself than to him once she reads the name on the card. “Am I allowed to ask for a picture?”

“Sure, sure”, Harry smiles and after she swipes the card and gives it back to him, he takes a photo with her.

Lux exits the store as happy as ever and says she can’t wait to get to _uncle Louis’s_ to charge the phone and start playing with it. “Well, after I hug him for ten hours”, she says.

 

As Harry expected, Lux does not remember the house. She spent most of her time moving with them from country to country and she hadn’t been there often, but when he says they’re arriving, she gets extremely excited. It’s almost eleven am and the sun is actually shining and when he texts Louis to say they’ll be there in ten, he feels his heart beat faster. He’s _eager_.

When they get out of the car, Harry feels like there’s one paparazzi undercover on the street, but he doesn’t mind it much when he sees Louis opening the door. He’s wearing joggers and an Adidas shirt and his hair is fluffy and he is as breathtaking as ever. But he isn’t looking at Harry. His eyes are fixed on Lux and she’s taking an impulse towards him.

            Suddenly Harry’s in a big backstage at a huge stadium and they’re running around with scooters. They’re laughing loudly and Paul is yelling at them cause _show’s in five, you jerks_ and Lux jumps on Harry’s bad back to try and give Louis an advantage. She’s laughing with the same happiness to her tone when she tackles Louis down on the living room floor now.

“I missed you sooo much”, she kind of yells. She’s a bit out of control. And Louis is laughing loudly as well with teary eyes.

“I missed you too, baby”, he says, not even trying to get up, just hugging her real right. “I missed you too much, it wasn’t good.” He sniffles.

“I’m sorry”, she says losing her smile and getting off of him.

“Hey, none of that”, Louis says, sitting up himself. “Not your fault, princess.” He smiles. “I’m just being reeeally silly”, he rolls his eyes. “God, you’re big!”

“I’m eight!” She says proudly.

“I know that. And we’re old.” Louis says the second sentence looking at Harry and saying _hi, Hazz_ shortly after.

“Told ya!” She points to Harry with a stupid grin on her face.

“She told me at the store that I was old”, he tells Louis, “completely wrong.”

“Yeah well…” Louis breathes heavily. “I hear someone just got their first phone…”

And then Lux puts her hand in the air to signal it’s _her_ who just got a phone and rambles about how it is pink and she’ll have to convince Lottie it’s okay to follow the social paradigm sometimes, if she likes it, cause uncle Harry has just taught her that. Louis asks him how the hell an eight year old already knows what a paradigm is and they come to the conclusion that she’s gifted.

Then they plug her phone on a jack so it can charge and go to the backyard to have fun in the sun. Louis brings them juices and literally catches up on everything on Lux’s life. Harry’s heard most of those stories, from her friends in France to the ones she misses in the UK, from her dad’s new tattoo studio to her mom’s new boyfriend, but he’s still completely focused on everything that’s happening. He focuses on Louis’ reactions to her and that sting of guilt hits him again.

When Lou told them they’d be Lux’s godfathers because she already knew back then they’d be together forever, Harry kind of freaked out, since he was so young to be responsible for such a tiny life, and Louis had told him to calm down – they’d rehearse with her so fifteen years from then they could raise their own kid. _Maybe Luxie will be our kids’ godmother_. The thought had seemed too far away then. It still is. But less.

He can’t believe he went so much time without _this_. He looks at them and he sees all of the days they had together – when he taught Lux how to swim and when Louis made her try her first ice cream. He remembers walking on Louis and Zayn tossing her around on a mattress and yelling at them just to be laughed at. He remembers watching Tom tattoo Louis for the first time while holding her.

Harry looks at Louis talking to Lux about nail polishes and make up and if she’s already learning a lot from Lottie and mommy and she says that _yes_ , but she doesn’t want to do that.

“What do you want to do when you grow up then?” Louis asks.

“I want to be a teacher!” She says proudly.

Conversation continues. Eventually she asks about Stella because _I saw it on the news and mom told me!!!_ she voices outraged because she doesn’t know Louis’ daughter. He says that when she gets to London he’ll arrange a meeting between them. He even says he’s already told Stella about Lux.

“You did?” She asks smiling. “She wants to meet me?”

“She’s very small, she’s only three”, Louis tells her. “But I’m sure she wants to be friends with you.”

“I will help you take care of her, uncle Louis.” Lux assures him.

 

They decide to go out to have lunch and go back to the house when the paparazzi start so surround the restaurant they’re at. By now Lux’s new phone is fully charged and Harry wants her to save all important contacts first and set up a password, but she’s too busy with Louis downloading stupid games and creating a snapchat account. They want to convince Harry to create one, but he’s reluctant.

Only when it’s seven pm and Lou texts him to ask if everything’s okay Harry realizes he should’ve taken her home earlier, but she’s lying on the couch with her head on Louis lap almost falling asleep.

“Somebody tired there?” He asks.

“Yeah”, Lux and Louis answer at the same time.

Harry kisses them both, one at a time, on the forehead.

“C’mon, Lux, ‘s time I take you home”, he says.

“But I don’t want to gooo”, she complains. “I want to stay here. And we can build a fort, can’t we, uncle Louis?” Lux looks at him with big hopeful eyes. “I can call mom and ask her, we’re going back to France in two days, it’s not fair.” She crosses her arms and whines only a bit.

Louis has that look in his eyes that says _of course I wanna say yes but if Lou says no I’ll probably be even more hurt than Luxie herself_ so Harry decides to intervene and say he’ll call Lou and ask her, but he doesn’t guarantee a thing.

In the end, he is able to convince Lou and Louis promises he’ll drop Lux off in the morning before he heads to the office. Harry sees in his eyes that he really is tired and decides to leave right after the comedy movie they were watching ends. Lux seems so happy that Harry hugs her three times before being able to let her go.

“Why aren’t you staying?” She asks.

“I- I need to get back to the flat and- well, I can’t.”

“You are gay, right?” Lux cuts Harry.

“Yes?!” He kind of asks because _where did that come from?_ And, well, she already knows. She’s met Alex.

“And you?” She asks Louis. He seems uncertain for only a second before nodding. “So… Are you boyfriends?”

“We- uh”, Louis starts.

“You look at each other like dad still looks at mom”, Lux continues like she isn’t making them so, so uncomfortable. “It’s a bit disgusting. And cute.”

“And you’re eight, shut up”, Louis says.

“And you’re old. And single.”

“Auch”, Louis laughs. “But wait, I have a daughter. Isn’t that weird for you?”

“Why? Girls get pregnant, not boys. Right?” She seems confused.

Harry is as endeared as he is terrified. (Where the fuck is her _mother_ to explain this stuff?) They only nod again. Louis looks at him like he wants to run away.

“So, she has a mother. Star, I mean”, Lux reasons. She liked when Harry told her he would like to call Stella Star. “And you are a father”, she continues. “And you like boys.” She shrugs. “My mom and my dad are not together. And my mom has a new boyfriend. You and Star’s mother are not together too…”

“ _Either_ ”, Harry corrects.

“Hate this-” she huffs.

“We don’t hate stuff, Luxie.”

“Don’t like it then”, she corrects herself. “Anyway… You and Star’s mom are not together _either_. So you can have a new boyfriend. Uncle Harry broke up with his boyfriend… He is single now. So you can be boyfriends.”

She finishes like she’s just won a world cup. Louis looks endeared. Harry is just… Happy.

“All right, miss know-it-all, give me a hug cause I need to get going…” Harry asks and gets down on his knees and opens his arms.

She goes easily and he doesn’t even realize Louis is getting closer when he hugs them both, just smiling big and staring into Harry’s eyes. Louis looks hopeful and younger and more like the Louis Harry’s always loved.

“All right, menace, see you around yeah?”

“Are you talking to Luxie or to me?” Louis asks laughing.

“Both of you”, Harry rolls his eyes.

“I’ll walk you out” Louis says and Lux seems to understand they need a second alone, cause she stays behind, waving at Harry with a happy smile on her face. “Jesus, she’s so… Grown up.”

Louis comments as soon as they’re out on the porch and looks around to see if they’re being watched. There’s nobody there anymore, Harry concludes.

“She is. All grown up, I mean.” Harry agrees. “Lou?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I want to meet Stella. Like, properly-” he says. “If that’s okay.”

Louis eyes widen.

“I- y-yeah”, Louis says, “of course. She’s- Harry!” He smiles big and Harry barely has time to register Louis getting to the balls of his feet and throwing his arms around his neck. “Thank you. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but- thank you.”

“Hey”, Harry murmurs in his ear, circling an arm around his waist. “I lo- I’m so happy, Lou”, he says. “I want us to be happy.”

“Me too”, Louis says and lets him go, only to pet on his hair and smile his biggest smile of the day. “She’s coming at the end of the month, by the way.”

“Okay, good-” Harry breathes. “It’ll be great.” And he convinces himself it will.

“Thank you, H”, Louis says and Harry kisses him.

“See you soon”, he says and leaves the house with certain difficulty. That place feels too much like home and Harry wonders if one day he’ll be able to call it again.

Since he readjusted himself in the flat, real estate agents were left behind and so were the many houses Gemma had looked up for him. Harry wants his new life to mingle with his old one and he believes he’s almost there.

 

-

 

Louis was a nervous wreck. Like- how did Harry _dare_ to throw that on him last minute? He didn’t even have the time to freak out properly. And of course he didn’t _have_ to freak out, but his body wasn’t obeying him.

He was driving as carefully as he could, so he wouldn’t pass the speed limit, pretty much aware of the two cars securing them – one leading the way and one behind – and he hated how everything in their lives had to be this big scheme. He was going to his boyfriend’s house for the first time for fuck’s sake and there were at least five body guards accompanying them.

Oh fuck. He was going to his _boyfriend’s house for the first time_. Harry seemed super chilled on the passenger seat and Louis wanted to smack him on the head for waking him up at eight am with “hey, Lou, mum asked us to lunch today”.

And, okay, it wasn’t like Louis hadn’t met Anne. He’d met Harry’s entire family and vice-versa, but it had been only a month that they were _together_ , only a month that they had finally admitted their feelings for and to each other. According to Jay, it had taken them long enough, but. Well. Louis could acknowledge he had had a denial phase throughout the entire competition, but it only took him a few days without Harry before they went on tour for him to admit to himself and to others that he was in love with that kid. The rest was history.

Harry could sense that he was uneasy and put a hand on his left thigh, rubbing in circles trying to calm him down. Louis breathed heavily trying to let him know that that was _not_ helping.

“You know you’re just- like, turning me on, right?” Louis asked not taking his eyes off of the road. He could feel rather than see Harry’s smirk and Harry pressed the palm of his hand on Louis inner thigh, making him shiver. “Harry.”

“What?” Harry asked and moved a bit closer, kissing the side of his neck. “You’re too nervous, Lou”, he said in his ear. “Unnecessarily nervous”, Harry spoke slowly and deeply. He wasn’t even seventeen yet for fuck’s sake, how was that possible? Little did Louis know, Harry’s voice would only get deeper and sexier with time. “I’m trying to distract you”, he said, moving his hand up on Louis thigh and rubbing it with intent, breath hot against Louis’ skin.

“Well the only thing you’ll manage is an accident if you don’t stop”, he went for nonchalance and joke but he sounded dead serious. Maybe because deep down he knew he was.

Louis had always been jumpy and agitated by nature. Never quiet, always demanding attention, never able to focus on anything but craving focus on himself. But with Harry… He didn’t even know how he _did it_ , but he’d just turn still and careful and _soft_. He could focus solely on Harry for hours and forget about the world. Harry made him forget there were other things in life… _Like traffic._

 _“H”_ , he warned; pleaded.

“Road head is totally a thing, you know”, Harry said coyly. Or at least pretending to be.

“No.”

“Yes”, he laughed.

“I’m about to meet your _mom_ , Harold, behave!” he said.

“You’ve met my mom. Countless times.”

“Yeah, but-” he took the opportunity since they’d stopped at a red light to look at him. Harry kissed his lips quickly before he could continue. “But now I’m your boyfriend”, he said in a low voice watching Harry’s smile spread on his face. “I feel like- I need approval?”

Harry was _so_ much better than him, how was he supposed to convince Anne he was enough to be with her son?

“Lou- babe, look at me”, Harry asked. “Ok, don’t, cause the light just turned green”, he smiled and Louis started the car again. “But listen- my mum, she- she let me live with you last year when I barely knew you cause I was- I was just _so_ in love with you from the moment we met that it was ridiculous.”

“You can’t say those things while I’m driving.”

“She knows you’re right for me”, Harry insisted. “You don’t need her approval cause you already have it. I think she just missed us.” Harry calmed him once again. He worked like magic so no one could blame Louis when he thought Harry wasn’t from this planet.

The closest they were getting to Holmes Chapel, the more relaxed Louis was getting. If Harry were saying the truth, which Louis _knew_ he was, he had no reason to worry. And, in the end, they were doing this together, so as scary as it was, it was also worth it.

 

-

 

Well, if Louis didn’t have reasons to worry back then, he certainly has now. He still wants to _murder_ Harry (with tickles and kisses, maybe) for having done this with him once again.

Louis was just saying goodbye to Briana on the phone when Harry arrived at the office after a meeting with his European managers to ask him to go back with him to Holmes Chapel the next night for Gemma’s engagement dinner. “It’s not a party, it’s just dinner with her, Justin, mum and Robin”, he said. He looked incredulously at Harry, mouth agape, but did Louis say no to him? _No_ , he didn’t. He doesn’t. Never has, never will.

So that’s how he’s found himself in this position again. _Fine_ , this time things are a bit better. A lot more messed up, yes, given the circumstance and the fact that he hasn’t been to Cheshire for over three years and hasn’t seen Anne for even longer than that, but at least he feels free. There are no body guards, no management looking after them, no secret to be kept. There is just him driving on the freeway and Harry holding his hand while commenting on the random songs that come on the radio.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Harry asks eventually. They’re at a red light again.

“2011? You offering me road head? You bet I am”, Louis smirks.

“The offer still stands”, Harry shrugs and Louis untangles their hands just to slap Harry’s arm. “I mean it.”

“Control yourself you maniac”, Louis says and they laugh, falling in comfortable silence for less than a minute before Louis speaks again. He’s gotten a bit better at voicing his feelings without them needing to be dragged out of his mouth. “H?”

“Yeah?”

“Does she hate me?”

“Louis, I told you my mom forgave you long before I did”, he rolls his eyes. Louis doesn’t think Harry realizes he’s just said he has forgiven Louis, but maybe he isn’t ready to say that yet, so Louis doesn’t comment on it. “Gemma might give you a hard time for the sake of it, but… You’ve spoken to her on the phone; she just misses watching bad TV with ya. I guess some things never change”, he shrugs and smiles.

“Yeah”, Louis grins too and studies Harry’s profile and has to make a huge effort when the light turns green.

Going to Harry’s childhood house is muscle memory, like riding a cock- oops, a bike. It’s natural for him and when he turns on the left corner of Harry’s street, right after passing by the bakery they’d been to several times (in which Harry would tell a different story from when he had worked there), his chest fills up and it’s _good_. He’s a little afraid, yeah, but he’s also so excited.

Once he pulls over in front of Harry’s house, it’s a bit overwhelming. It must be for Harry too, cause as soon as he unbuckles the seatbelt Harry jumps on him pressing hard on the back of his neck and pulling their faces together, kissing him hard and urgently and gripping Louis’ arm with his other hand like their lives depend on it.

They’re on a full on snog – with tongue, and hands and pants and hair pulling – when Louis hears a noise coming from outside and thanks God he isn’t _so_ immerse on Harry’s low moan to notice it, because when they separate and he looks over Harry’s shoulder he sees Gemma through the glass and opens his side of the door immediately.

“Honestly, you’re no different from your teenager versions, are you?” She scolds them while Louis gets out of the car and Harry does the same.

“I like to think I’m even hotter, actually”, Louis inputs, standing in front of her.

“You’re cute”, she mocks him and pulls him on a hug.

“I’d say he’s… Handsome and rugged… A bit more manly”, Harry says.

“You’re a knob”, Gemma answers but doesn’t let go of Louis. “I’m so glad you’re here”, she whispers. “Don’t blow it again.”

“I won’t, sis”, he promises her.

It’s _so_ good to be able to talk to Gemma like this again. They’ve talked on the phone these past two weeks and he even crashed one of her and Harry’s late night skype sessions, but this… This is the both of them acting like _themselves_ around each other after years of not even a word exchanging. It’s overwhelming.

It just isn’t as overwhelming as seeing Anne.

“You know what…” He hears a voice coming from the hall and looks at the direction of the open door. Anne stands there in a long dress and hair in a bun. “For a long time I thought I’d never see this again… I’m glad I was wrong.” She finishes.

Louis is like a kid on Christmas Eve who can’t help but rip the gift open when he walks towards Anne and hugs her, lifting her by the waist and spinning twice before putting her on the ground again. Once he does it, he becomes aware that he started crying and buries his face on her neck, feeling her gentle fingers trace patterns on his back and hair, soothing him and saying how _great it is_ that he’s back.

Louis is a mess. He looks over her shoulder and sees Robin patting a red-eyed Harry on the back. He will never forget this moment. Anne caresses his face and cleans his tears, kisses his cheek and says:

“Tea’s ready, Lou.” He wants to cry more. He really does, but he smiles as wide as he can.

There are three people in the world that can make his tea apart from himself: Jay, Harry and Anne. For years he’d sleep in while Harry went on morning runs and be woken up by Anne calling him for tea.

“Oh my”, he says, “I- I’m.” He gives up. “I’ve missed you.”

“You too, dear.”

“I’m-”, he has to. “I’m so sorry. For everything. I’m really-  I can’t. I’m sorry. I never got to say that in person and- I’ve no idea of what-  I mean, I don’t deser-I’m sorry. I’ve missed you.”

“It’s all good now, isn’t it?” She asks.

Louis looks at Harry. He’s smiling, hugging Gemma. “It really is”, he says. And then he realizes that beside Gemma there’s a guy he’s only seen in pictures. A guy who has just witnessed a really private moment. But then again he thinks that if Gemma is about to _marry_ him, he is family. “I’m Louis.”

“So I’ve heard”, the guy smiles, “ _a lot_ ”, he says then, earning a slap from Harry, making everybody laugh. “Justin. Nice to meet you, man.”

“You too”, Louis shakes his hand. And then there’s only Robin. “Hey”, he says. He’s missed him too.

Robin’s a big guy and never shows emotions. Or, almost never. His eyes are a bit watery as well.

“Louis”, he says, nodding and offering him a contained smile. “Game’s about to start, let’s get you a beer, shall we?”

And that’s pretty much it. Maybe it shouldn’t be, but… It is what it is, Louis guesses. This family is his as well, and in ten minutes he’s swearing at players with Robin, Harry and Justin, who seems to be a nice bloke.

When dinner’s ready, Anne calls them and they talk amicably about everyday stuff. He asks about her garden and she gets excited telling him about how many things she’s learned about flowers over the years. The conversation then moves to Gemma’s flowers to the wedding and Harry jumps in wanting to plan every little detail with her.

“I’m really excited for the cake tasting part, I might confess”, Justin says.

“You’re a good one”, Louis tells him. “Good on you, Gems.”

“Yeah well… I guess I have to just hope he won’t cheat on me and have a kid along the way, right?”

“You were just kidding, right, babe?” Justin asks like he knows what she’s talking about, but doesn’t want to believe she just said it and is desperately trying to lighten up the mood.

Louis registers three things: Anne’s eyes piercing her daughter, Robin spilling his beer, Harry’s hands tightening the grip on his knee.

“I had that one coming for a long time, didn’t I?” He asks trying to laugh it off.

“You did”, she says and then looks down, her plate seeming a lot more interesting. “And I’m- sorry, I guess? I didn’t mean to. There are just so many comments on my mind right now and I could, like, throw them all at you- like, at once?!”

“Gemma”, Harry warned.

“Hey, it’s okay”, Louis turns to Harry.

“It’s not okay”, Anne says outraged.

“But it is”, Louis says looking at Anne again. “Look- I. Gemma and I are the same, yeah?” Gemma is about to interrupt him, but Robin puts a hand on hers like he’s asking for her to wait. “Not like- in actions, _obviously_ , just… We have the same temper and this crazy protective instinct over Harry. I failed him once and- and I’ll never forgive myself for that so it’s okay if she doesn’t either”, he explains and looks at her. “It is, Gems. I hate myself too, you know? And I’ve wanted to hurt myself more times than I can count and the only reason I didn’t was because mum, and Stan, Zayn or Liam were always there to- to stop me” She smiles regretfully. Harry’s hand is still gripping on his knee for dear life and Anne’s on the verge of crying.

This is _so not_ what he wanted to be saying. But he knows it’s necessary.

“Just the fact that I’m here- I mean. I never thought I’d see this place again”, he shrugs, “and it truly feels like a blessing. So it’s okay if you want- if you _make_ snarky remarks once in a while.”

“I didn’t mean to”, she finally answers. “I just came out.”

“It’s fine”, he assures her.

“Gemma.” Harry says.

“I’m sorry”, she says to both Harry and Louis. Louis nods, Harry doesn’t look at her again for at least ten minutes, but they continue eating after Robin changes the subject for something lighter, like Louis’ being on the board of the Rovers.

Nights like this remind him he still has a long way to go. He and Harry both, because their relationship has always involved _other_ people, people who had believed in them enough to protect them, people who helped them fight, people who were there to tell them they’d get through that hell called Modest! Management and come out of that alive.

Nights like this remind him that for every day they’ve spent apart he’ll have to compensate. But he looks around and he just knows that it is worth it, and he’ll spend as long as it takes to fix it, them, completely. Harry’s by his side again. Nobody can drag him down now.

 

They finish eating right after seven and it’s the earliest Louis has eaten in a while. But Gemma and Justin still need to drive to Manchester to go to his family’s house cause that’s where they’re staying and don’t even wait for dessert. She hugs Louis one more time and apologizes again. He holds her tighter and asks for a visit whenever she has time and is back in London, and she smiles saying that yes, she’ll do that. He hopes so.

 

“Are you guys staying?” Anne asks with a hopeful tone to her voice.

“Hm- no”, Louis answers a bit insecure, “Stella’s coming tomorrow morning and I need to pick her up at the airport.”

“Oh”, she widens her eyes, “how is she?”

“She’s good, really good, but I miss her”, Louis shrugs.

“I bet you do, it must be hard being away.” Anne offers.

Harry’s talking to Robin about the new car he bought this week and is barely paying attention to Louis’ conversation with his mother.

“It is, we have a good plan though”, he smiles, “she comes at least once a month, stays as long as we both can… She’s still in daycare but she hates missing _school_ , I swear.”

“I’ve only seen her on the news…” Anne comments. “Can I see her?”

“Hum-I… Sure”, he takes his phone from his pocket. “Here.”

“Wow, Louis”, Anne opens her mouth wide and then smiles, flicking through the pictures. “Jay said she had your eyes but… It’s like, _the same_ ”, she says alternating between the phone screen and Louis’ face. “She’s one of the most beautiful kids I’ve ever seen- with, well, with your face… And her mother is very pretty as well.”

“Thanks”, he says trying not to be apprehensive.

“You’ve done a good thing, Louis”, Anne says. “I know it- I know it didn’t happen how you planned but. She is a good thing, yeah?”

“Yeah”, Louis agrees. “She’s amazing”, he says proudly.

“What are we talking about?” Harry looks at them and slides an arm around Louis waist, pulling him close.

“Louis is showing me gorgeous Stella”, Anne smiles.

“Star”, Harry voices, “yeah, she’s coming tomorrow. By the way, shouldn’t we go?” He turns to Louis, “what time d’you need to be at the airport?”

“Not until ten, but- yeah, as much as I want to stay”, he speaks turning to Anne, “we have a long drive ahead of us back to London.”

“I understand”, Anne says and it’s like she wants to ask something but refrains from it. Louis doesn’t know what to make of this moment.

Before they leave, though, Harry says he needs to go up his room for a second and asks Louis to follow him.

They find all kinds of stuff there. There’s one of Louis’s oldest jumpers on a chair and a pair of vans that Anne never changed places. Harry opens his closet to find his ‘ _home clothes’_ still there and tells Louis he doesn’t think they fit anymore and makes a note to come back here and pack everything to give away to charity and also bring new pieces. He plans to come visit more often. Anne almost cries when he says so.

He lets Anne talk to Harry in private and walks down back to the living room where he finds Robin going through facebook on his laptop and then he takes off his glasses, studying Louis before saying “missed you, son”.

“You too”, Louis responds truthfully.

“Let’s schedule a trip to Doncaster so I can visit the Rovers yeah?”

“Of course, there’s this new installation for training, it’s sick”, Louis tells him and explains how everything’s working now, how he can’t be there much but still has a say on who they contract and how they move things around, like he’s always wanted. “I’ll call Dan and see when he’s free and then we can all go. Been promising Niall I’ll take him there for months now.”

“Miss that Irish lad as well.” He says, Anne and Harry entering the room together.

“Can we have a big One Direction reunion? With all of the families?” Anne asks excited. “God, I miss Karen”, she smiles clapping her hands.

“Karen’s gonna be a grandmother”, he tells Anne. “Don’t know if H’s told you, but Soph’s pregnant. With a boy.”

“Oh my God!” She says and Robin smiles big as well. “D’you have her phone number?”

“No- but I’ll ask Liam.”

“Thanks, honey”, she says. “God. Robin, where did the time go? We are _old_.”

“I don’t know, love”, he answers hugging her by the waist. “I’m still very young, though. In spirit, at least.” They all crack a laugh.

Louis catches them up on Liam’s and Zayn’s lives briefly (they know better about Niall because of Harry) and talks about 78 Productions. Anne doesn’t hide that she’s been talking to Jay all these years so he doesn’t even bother telling her anything else. It’s just past eight when Harry says they really should get going. Louis agrees, he just doesn’t want to.

“Ok, we’re going now”, he says more to himself than anyone else. “Bye, Robin”, he says giving him one of those lads hugs. “Great seeing you.”

“Same, Louis.”

“Bye, Anne”, he moves to hug her. She and Harry have a lot of similarities and giving outrageously good hugs is only one of them. “Thanks for letting me back in here.”

“Louis, since the first day you entered this house I just- I just _knew_ nobody would come after you.”

“Well-” he starts to reason that Harry _has_ had another boyfriend, but she seems to know where he’s going and interrupts him.

“ _Nobody_ , Louis.” She repeats.

“Oh.”

“Yes”, Anne smiles. “He’s never stopped loving you”, she whispers to him and Harry rolls his eyes because he hears it. He hasn’t said it to Louis this time round yet. But he can start feeling it, and it’s good enough. Everything happens in time.

“I never stopped loving him either- any of you, for what it matters.”

“It matters a lot”, she says. “Missed you, love.”

“Missed you too”, he says and lets Harry say goodbye to his mom so they can finally leave.

They have a three hour drive back to London and Harry insists on taking the wheel since Louis drove up here. “That means I get to control the radio”, Louis says smiling ridiculously at Harry who only rolls his eyes and kisses his cheek before stepping on the gas pedal.

It is quiet most of the time and halfway there Harry places his hand on Louis’ thigh so he can intertwine their fingers. They’ve done this so many times in the past and it’s just so familiar to Louis to drive back with him in the middle of the night when there’s no traffic and outside noise that he closes his eyes just for a second, making a list of the things he’s going to do with Stella this week and how he can include Harry on it. He doesn’t realize he’s falling asleep.

 

“Lou?” Harry calls him, “Louis, babe”, Louis feels light fingertips on his upper cheek. “We’re here.”

Louis slowly opens his eyes and Harry is close, so he waits for a kiss. Harry plants his mouth on his ever so lightly, just brushing their lips together making Louis’ entire body tremble.

“Time is it?”

“Just before midnight, we made a good time”, he responds in a low voice, the moment too intimate to speak any louder, even if they’re inside a car on a side walk. “Please invite me in?” Harry asks, eyes searching for an answer in Louis’s and… _Yes?_

Louis doesn’t want to wait for anything anymore and in less than a day his daughter is going to be here and will need his undivided attention and then he’ll have to spend two more weeks stalling Harry _and_ himself and. Okay. He can’t.

“C’mon, H”, he says, “let’s drink some tea.”

Harry parks the car better and Louis thinks about telling him to put it in the garage, but he’s not sure of what the boundaries still are, so he doesn’t say anything and walks up to the porch, searching for the keys in his pockets.

They make small conversation when they get to the kitchen and Louis moves to the built in cabinet to retrieve two tea-cups and watches Harry putting the kettle on. This whole day has been so domestic and to end it that way makes Louis want to cry from a different kind of _happiness_ , one he didn’t think was possible.

They have this big glass door that opens to the backyard and Harry always used to say that one day he’d be cooking in this kitchen while watching Louis playing with their kids outside, and he’d call them in when the table was set and make everybody wash their hands, promising them ice cream if they all ate their vegetables. The memory is painful and has Louis almost forgetting what he should do in the first place.

He is facing the wall and the counter when he hears water boiling and closes the cabinet when he feels Harry’s larger body coming behind him, placing both of his hands on Louis hips and kissing his neck. Louis’ head goes pliant to the side and Harry’s mouth open wetly on the side of his neck, closing and sucking for a few seconds before smoothing his tongue over the spot, repeating the action a little closer to Louis ear. He tightens his grip on Louis’ hips and traces the same pattern from one side of his neck to the other, kissing and licking and making Louis whimper as his tongue works its way up Louis ear.

Louis can feel his cock twitch in his pants at the same time Harry presses his crotch on Louis ass, showing him that he’s hard too, and Louis presses back rolling his hips, telling Harry that it’s _okay_ , he won’t stop him this time.

He slowly turns on his front and lifts his eyes to stare into Harry’s.

“No tea?” He asks teasingly.

“Fuck tea”, Harry says closing the gap between them and taking Louis ass into his big hands squeezing his cheeks and pushing him forward so their cocks rub through the material of their clothes.

“I’d much rather fuck you to be honest”, he says into Harry’s mouth and Harry drops his head to Louis shoulder; Louis takes this opportunity to bury his hand on Harry’s curls and pull it forcefully so they’re looking at each other.

“Please”, Harry says, “ _please_ , Lou”, his voice is already hoarse and they haven’t even started. God, what was Louis thinking? Why was he waiting? He _loves_ Harry like this. He loves having him all to himself, he loves the way Harry’s always let him do whatever he wanted with him and how he trusted him completely and _why are they still in the kitchen?_

He finds the will to move first, separating from Harry and walking towards the stairs as fast as he can, hoping that Harry’s right behind him so they can get to the room, _their room_ , as fast as they can and Harry does just that: he follows Louis. They stop to snog once more by the stairs and Harry’s already taken off his coat and is now working on Louis’ hood. He raises his arm so Harry can take it off and his shirt goes with it. Harry’s mouth goes slack and-

“Your body!” Harry says impressed, because now Louis has abs. That’s what the lack of sex for so long has done to him: double gym time. “Fuck”, Harry says and kisses Louis again, trying to walk him back up the stairs.

“Love, you can’t even walk by yourself, let’s get up there first, shall we?” Louis says laughing and tugs on Harry’s hand so they climb together and it works faster this way.

            Once they’re on the upstairs hall, he kisses Harry again and figures it’s okay if they become a big movie cliché and walk like this to the bedroom, leaving their shoes and pieces of clothes along the way. He manages to take Harry’s jeans off with him pined against the bedroom door and can’t help but to kiss up his mile long legs when he gets on his knees. He kisses Harry’s thigh smoothing his hand on the other one, and moves his lips up to the place Harry’s pants start covering his body. Louis smirks to himself and continues kissing him, very aware of Harry’s huge erection in front of him, but he avoids it because he’s a little shit and Harry’s getting desperate by the second.

            He looks up and sees the boy with an open mouth and no sound coming out of it, looking down at Louis like he’s waiting to be destroyed and Louis wants to give it all to him. He runs his lips along Harry’s hipbones, following the laurel tattoos and moves his hands up towards his nipples, making Harry buckle up from the wall and notices how hard he’s working to keep his hands to himself, just letting Louis play with him. Louis _revels_ on it, kissing his way up Harry’s torso and finally taking one of his nipples into his mouth, sucking on it forcefully dragging a loud moan out of Harry’s mouth.

            Harry’s hand grab the hair on the nape of his neck and presses Louis _closer closer closer_ to his skin like he’s scared Louis is going to back off at any given moment, which, no, and Louis moves to the other nipple, playing the right already puffy one between his thumb and forefinger.

            “Louis”, Harry asks, “bed”, _pleads_ , “c’mon”. Louis kisses up on his neck and takes his mouth again, letting Harry grab him by the hip and open the bedroom door, finally, so they’re inside.

            It’s insane that more than three years have passed since Harry set foot in there. Louis doesn’t even want to think about it, but suddenly they’re on the bed and Harry’s hovering over him and searches for something is his eyes like he’s scared to ask, but Louis _wants_ to know, he wants to know so bad, everything and anything Harry’s thinking.

            Harry’s supporting his body with both arms on the sides of his head and his curls are molding his face leaving Louis thinking to himself that he wasn’t wrong in waiting so long. He’d wait forever if he had to, because he knows that it’s either Harry or nothing. Because Harry is everything.

            “What?” He asks finally, bringing one hand to Harry’s face and caresses it there. Harry lowers his body leaving them only an inch apart and kisses Louis softly.

            “We’re in our room”, Harry says with wonder and kisses Louis again, who opens his mouth effortlessly and caresses Harry’s arms by his sides.

            Harry then drops his weight on Louis body and makes slow circles with his hips, making Louis writhe against the sheets like he’s in the best kind of torture there’s ever been invented. And he is. Harry kisses his neck and moves his hands to Louis’ already opened jeans, kissing down his stomach and sucking on each of Louis’ six packs, until he reaches his navel, where he stops to lick and bite while he takes Louis’ jeans off. Louis lifts his hips for a second so Harry can slide the trousers of his bum and only then realizes Harry’s bringing his pants down with it, and his cock slaps against his stomach hitting the side of Harry’s chin, who’s more than happy to give it a lick and make Louis moan so loud their neighbors would listen – if there weren’t a lot of trees and space between houses.

            Louis knows Harry doesn’t know he hasn’t slept with anyone after him, and as much as he thinks this isn’t the time to _talk_ , he also feels like he _has to_ once Harry finishes taking off his clothes and throws his own pants on the floor – the only piece of clothes he had left – and swallows Louis’ cock unceremoniously taking a hold of his hip and pining him down on the bed with one hand, working the other one up to Louis’ left nipple, because Louis is already seeing stars and he is damned if he comes before fucking Harry tonight.

            “H”, he calls, “Hazz”, says breathily and it’s difficult to even concentrate cause Harry’s latching onto his shaft and moving one of his hands to Louis base to hold it in place so he can twirl his tongue at the tip and move down once again liking on the underside of his cock. It’s when Harry deep throats him that Louis knows it has to stop before it ends. “Harry”, he pulls on Harry’s hair taking him off of him and Harry moans better than a fucking porn star because he’s Harry and does everything better than everyone on the planet, “st-top”, he says, “before I-”, Harry kisses up his torso again, and then his neck, purposely rubbing their dicks together, “ _come_ ”, Louis can’t help but yell.

            “I just-”, Harry says, mouthing at his jaw, “missed you”, speaks with voice deeper after deep throating Louis. _Fuck._ “So much.”

            “Me too, love”, Louis says arching his back and searching for friction, “but it’s been too long since we- since _I_ , so, yeah-”, eloquent as always.

            “How long?” Harry asks more curious than anything, rolling his hips down one more time giving Louis what he wants and kissing from his jaw to his cheek to his mouth.

            “L-long”, Louis says before Harry catches his lips and they kiss languidly, with all the time in the fucking world. “Since we- last- you know. In LA.”

            “What?” Harry backs off a bit just to have a look at him. _“What?”_

Louis bites his lips self-consciously. “I couldn’t”, he then confesses.

            “Lou”, Harry cries out because at the same time Louis says that he gets a hold of Harry’s cock on his hand strokes it a few times, “but you-uh-you… You love sex”, he says.

            “I love sex with _you_ ”, Louis corrects. “Everyone else would just pale in comparison anyway”, he says and quickly changes their positions, putting Harry on his back and kissing his neck, never stopping his strokes on his cock. “I love you”, he tells Harry, low in his ear and Harry moans at that, but doesn’t respond and Louis pretends it doesn’t hurt a bit, so he reaches out to his bedside table to grab a bottle of lube and a condom. They’ll have many rounds, he’s sure, but right now he just needs to be inside of Harry and finally remember what being alive feels like.

            He’s so hard it’s painful and when Harry spreads his legs for Louis to fit in between them, there’s a smile on his face even though his eyes are a bit watery – Louis can’t read if it’s sadness or happiness or if he’s just overwhelmed. Maybe it’s everything altogether because it’s been so long that all feelings are allowed to surface at once.

            “C’mon, Lou”, Harry says and strokes himself.

            Louis slaps his hand out of his cock and kisses his tip, making Harry turn his head to the side and close his eyes tightly, suppressing the moan in his throat. He takes only the tip in his mouth while he opens the lube and drizzles it on his fingers moving his other hand down in between Harry’s legs. One of Harry’s hands is in a closed fist on the white sheets while the other holds Louis’ hair for dear life and it’s so hot Louis can’t help but take Harry in his mouth as well, bobbing his head up and down a few times until his fingers find Harry’s asshole and Harry exhales a guttural sound just at the touch of Louis’ fingers.

            “You’re so eager, aren’t you, H?” Louis provokes like _he_ isn’t dying to fuck him senseless. "You want my fingers, don’t you baby?” Harry nods and doesn’t even open his eyes, just ruts down the mattress and Louis finally inserts his index finger in Harry’s tight _tight_ hole, watching mesmerized as it opens around him.

            Harry’s hot and velvety and just _so_ responsive with his little gasps and pants and Louis kisses the inside of his thigh while working his finger till the second knuckle, pulling it out and pushing in a few times so Harry gets used to it. _“More, please, LOUIS-”_ he asks squirming and moaning and Louis pushes a second finger in, emitting a soft moan himself because he’s going to fuck Harry and his dick is rubbing against the sheets and Harry’s _here_ and under _him_ and they’re together and it’s too much, too fucking much.

            He scissors his fingers carefully but quickly and pushes them in further, looking for Harry’s spot. He knows he’s found it when Harry’s back arches and he throws his head back. Louis grabs Harry’s dick and strokes it in sync with his fingers entering his ass and Harry’s torn between meeting him up or down, just writhing like he’s agonizing in bed, ready to die of pleasure, “ _LOU”,_ he yells and Louis puts in a third finger, just to make sure, _“LOUIS, INSIDE ME. NOW”_ , Harry can’t contain his voice anymore and Louis _loves_ it.

He was never one to talk much during sex – a contrast with his normal self – but every time Harry voiced- _voices_ something it’s like he’s just won an award. He hits Harry’s prostate mercilessly with three of his fingers before moving up again and kissing him hard. Tongues meet first and it’s dirty and perfect and Harry doesn’t waste any time when he opens the condom pack. Louis mentally thanks him, since both of his hands are slippery from lube and Harry’s precome.

He lets Harry roll the condom down his length and stroke him a few times after he asks, “how do you want this?”

“Like this”, Harry answers, already lifting his legs to put a pillow under himself, “I want to see you”, he says pulling Louis closer, “I want you”, he says and Louis kisses him, positioning himself between his legs again. “Fuck me, _Lou_ ”, Harry almost begs, “ _please”._

And Louis does. He presses forward and enters Harry slowly, more for himself than for Harry, if he’s being perfectly honest. His cock’s so hard and he knows he needs to take this slow right in the beginning otherwise he’ll come once he’s completely inside of Harry. He moves both of their hands up the bed, above Harry’s head and looks into Harry’s emerald eyes, seeing the world inside of a person.

Harry is so damn beautiful, and perfect and- and tight, and hot and so frustrated already that he’s gripping Louis by his ass and forcing him in at once, making Louis moan with his face buried on his neck. They both exhale guttural sounds into each other’s mouths once Louis is completely in and Louis locks his eyes in Harry’s, kissing his mouth once, twice, three times just trying to believe that this is real, this is _happening._ He can feel his cock throb inside of Harry and he knows Harry can feel it too cause he’s getting more impatient and starts to move by himself, so Louis takes deep breaths and starts to fuck him.

He’s slow at first, long and pointed thrusts that have him comfortable enough to start fastening the rhythm, letting his head fall forward and rest on Harry’s temple. He thrusts again and this time Harry’s the one to be loud, clenching around Louis as soon as he finds his prostate again – this time with his dick – and, “oh my God”, Harry says, “harder”, he asks and Louis gives it to him, digging the balls of his feet on the mattress and snapping his hips backwards and forwards strongly, mercilessly, making Harry’s bark out throatily and higher than his own sobs – Louis can’t keep them in anymore.

“Ha- _hArry”_ , he says, “I’ve-”

            “ _Missed- th-this_ ”, Harry completes. “Us---LOUIS FUCK” he arches his back and Louis needs to release their hands cause Harry wants to touch him, he knows.

            Louis’ high sounds are involuntary by now and as he slams into Harry he can feel his entire body trembling and he knows he won’t last much longer, but he takes advantage of all the time he has. He kisses Harry’s chest and bites on his arm and finds a new tattoo there, barely registering to comment on it later.

            Harry pulls him up by his hair so they can kiss again and keeps one hand squeezing Louis ass while he fucks into him like their lives depend on it – and they might. Louis finds the meaning of life again among pants and hotness and he has to shut his eyes when Harry clenches around him, bucking his hips up and meeting his thrust. His hair is wet with sweat and his fringe falls on Harry’s face and Harry brushes it off his forehead, kissing him again. “I’m gonna-- I’m close”, Harry warns and Louis finds it’s time to take him out of his misery and take a hold of his cock again, “ _f-f-fuck_ , Louis-shit you”, Harry chokes out, “fuck.”

            “C’mon, H”, he says and kisses his neck, thrusting faster and harder feeling his own orgasm close, “c’mon.” He grabs one of Harry’s legs moving it up his shoulder and Harry does the same with his other one, and then he bends him in half. This way he can go deeper and Harry’s sobbing by the time Louis presses on him again. “You like that, don’t you?” Louis asks. “Being bent in half for me”, Harry rolls his eyes to the back of his head and says something incoherent, “you do”, Louis continues, “and you’re all mine again”, he says in wonder, “you’re _so_ amazing, Harry” he says in his ear, never stopping his thrusts.

            _“Please”_ Harry sobs, “make me- co-come”, pleads, “ _please, Louis_.”

            He pines Harry’s hands above his head with only one hand again and gives up talking once the fucking is louder. There’s the sound of skin on skin and little pants in each other’s mouths and when Harry warns “ _coming”_ , he’s too close himself and it only takes Harry clenching around him while shooting white ropes of come up his chest, mouth slack and eyes shut for Louis to slam harder twice and fill up the condom, falling on Harry, sucking on his neck and feeling both of their hears beating like carnival drums.

 

            It takes them a while to come down. Harry winces when Louis pulls out to take off the condom and put it aside and makes grabby hands at him, but Louis needs to clean him up first.

            “Just one second, love.” He says and goes to the bathroom to fetch a wet cloth. When he sees himself in the mirror, he smiles like a fucking idiot because he didn’t even remember what he looked like truly _fucked_. It’s his favorite look on himself and it may be because he only gets it after being with Harry.

            When he gets back, Harry has a satisfied smile on his face and he crawls on the bed, cleaning Harry up.

            “It went to your chin”, Louis laughs finishing it on his cheek and neck, tossing it on the floor.

            “Your fault”, Harry says and turns on his side and waits for Louis to cover them, and then studies his expression. Louis waits for him to talk. “I’ve- how have you. I don’t know if I can ask?!”

            “How have I gone so long without sex?” Louis laughs and Harry nods. “A lot of sad wanks, a huge dildo collection and extra gym time.”

            “That explains your abs”, Harry looks down and smiles. “Oh, Lou…” He says thumbing on his upper cheek. “What if- I mean. What if we never…? Jesus.”

            “We don’t have to go there, yeah?” Louis says tracing patterns on Harry’s chest. “We’re here.”

            “Against all odds.” Harry agrees.

            “You have a new tattoo…” Louis says then.

            “You’ve noticed.”

            “Yeah”, Louis supports his head on his hand and looks on the inside of Harry’s arm. There next to his old ones, lies the half of a heart outlined in black ink. “’S funny…” He said.

            “What’s funny about a broken heart?” Harry asks curiously and Louis shows him rather than speaks when he turns his arm so Harry can see it.

            “ _I’m half a heart without you_ ”, Harry reads it out.

            “We match”, Louis explains simply.

            “Even when we don’t want to.” He replies in awe and kisses Louis.

            “Against all odds.”

-

 

            When Harry wakes up, he registers a few things, but the most important of them being: he in his bed. Not in his LA bed, or in his hotel bed and not even the flat bed. But in his _house_ ’s bed, the bed he chose with Louis almost seven years ago, in the house that they built and decorated together. He’s _home_.

            Louis has his arms around him and is breathing peacefully against his neck so Harry does his best not to wake him when he reaches out to the bedside table to see the time. They fell asleep at almost three am and it’s almost nine now, and even though they deserve more sleep, Louis has to be up to pick Stella up at the airport. He turns around on the bed and Louis starts to stir awake.

            “Hey babe”, Harry says softly thumbing behind his ear and playing with his hair there. Louis smiles without opening his eyes and he looks so _soft_ that Harry kisses the tip of his nose and then his mouth. “I’ll make us some tea”, he says slowly and in a low tone, not wanting to disturb the moment; he feels at peace.

            Louis opens his eyes and Harry sees the universe.

            “Good morning”, Louis says, intertwining their fingers between their chests.

            “Yeah”, Harry smiles back. They’re both grinning like idiots. “ _Good_ morning”, he emphasizes and kisses Louis a few more times before getting up from the bed and making his way to the kitchen, his kitchen – _their_ kitchen.

            He prepares the tea and takes it upstairs and waits for Louis to get out of the shower so they can drink it together. He watches Louis dress up and then goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth with Louis’ toothbrush because they’ve shared enough body fluid over the years that a toothbrush is nothing in comparison.

            Louis says he can stay there while he goes to pick Stella and take a shower. Harry finds out all of his clothes are still in the closet and doesn’t know how he feels about it. It’s a bit weird that Louis hasn’t moved on, hasn’t even ever thought about it, apparently, but he also doesn’t know how he’d react if Louis had found somebody else. He doesn’t even want to go there.

            He kisses Louis _see you soon_ and has no idea of how this perfect day is going to end. He doesn’t know how lucky he is for that.

 

 

            Breakfast table is set even if it’s already a bit late for it. He and Louis were never conventional anyway. Louis texted saying that he was leaving Heathrow at ten fifteen, so he must be arriving in a few minutes. _They_ must be.

            Harry wants to meet Stella. He knows it’s an important step and one he needs to take sooner rather than later because she is a permanent thing – and adorable, and small, and Louis’s.

And he thinks he’s fine with it, he thinks they’re past the point in which Harry will freak out and decide he doesn’t trust Louis anymore. He thinks a lot of things while he waits with strawberry milk in hands and has a bunch of others to think but isn’t able to, because the door opens and he hears Louis talking in a voice he’s _never ever_ heard.

            “Baby, d’you remember Harry?” He hears Louis asking.

            “Dunno, papaaa.”

            “From the supermarket? Ice cream Harry?” Harry then sees Louis walking into the kitchen holding her little hand and she looks up to her father.

            “Teevee picture Arry?” And then she sees Harry, “DAT ARRY!” She points. “Arry!!” And smiles. And Harry, who is always comfortable around children, who wants dozens of them, doesn’t know how to react. “Hiiii”, she says.

            “H-hi, Star”, he says getting on his knees. “How are you?” He asks. “Can I get a hug?” _Do I want one_?

            “Papa?”

            “D’you want to give him a hug, princess?” And she runs to hug Harry. Her hair is blonde and longer than he remembers. She smells good. And she’s innocent. And Harry feels something in his stomach that he can’t quite figure out what it is, but it isn’t good.

            He asks her if she’s hungry and tells both her and Louis that he’s made them breakfast. He watches the way Louis puts her on a kid’s chair that is high enough that Stella’s chest is leveled with the counter and she can eat with them and the way he talks to her and he thinks back to a time in which he considered forgiving Louis if he convinced Briana to have an abortion. He isn’t proud of it, of _course not_ , but it has happened, and now the guilt of ever thinking that eats him alive when Stella tells him his pancakes are _just the best, Arry_.

            Louis sees it in his eyes; he knows Louis does because his smile falters throughout the day. Louis sees it when he’s playing dolls with Stella and she asks which one Harry wants and he asks her to pick one for him, but just because he’s uncomfortable. Louis sees it when Stella plays with Harry’s hair and he has to force the biggest of his smiles, making it creepy and it hurts his face. Louis sees it when she says _looove you, papa_ and Harry looks away in order not to cry.

            But they get through the day. Because it’s all about her and even if Harry’s acting like he is, she loves him. She tells Louis she misses uncle Liam and uncle Zayn, but that _Arry_ is the best because he looks like a princess.

            “I like Harry very much, you know”, he tells her.

            “Yeah?” She asks.

            “Uhum”, he says. “I love Harry.”

            Her eyes widen.

            “Like lobe Star?” Oh, yeah, she refers to herself like Star now. Somebody kill Harry, please.

            “Hm- no”, Louis explains. “Like- like uncle Liam loves auntie Sophia.”

Stella giggles but Harry isn’t sure she understands it fully.

            “But-” she starts and the shrugs. “Tay, papaaa, lobe how you want.”

            And Harry’s heart hurts. And he can’t stay in there anymore – in their house, with an amazing kid who is Louis’s but isn’t his, because things are _that_ messed up. So Harry stands up from the outdoor couch and mumbles something about needing to go back to his flat because he has a skype meeting in LA.

            Louis looks confused, _so_ confused, and Harry wants to explain, but he can’t.

            “See you soon, yeah?” He asks Louis, who only nods. “I need to go now, Star, it was lovely meeting you.”

            “See you soon, Arry?” She asks. _No. I don’t know. God._

            “Y-yes”, he answers and kisses her forehead. “Be good to papa.”

            “Always good, Arry”, she says and smiles. He smiles back and it comes a bit better than the first one of the day.

            “See you?” Louis says two words but there is much more to his question. Harry only nods and kisses his cheek, grabbing his car keys and telling Louis he doesn’t need to take him to the door in case there are paparazzi there.  

            He just needs some distance. He needs to think.

 

            Later that night, before falling asleep, Harry texts Louis the only thing that’s on his mind: _I’m sorry._

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk what's happening to me, I'm getting too wordy towards the end of this story. (Guess I got too attached and now I don't want it to end.) I'm so sorry for such a long chapter.
> 
> PLUS: sorry if you find any mistakes - you probably will -, I'm too lazy rn to revise it :(
> 
> >>>> DISCLAIMER: the song used in this chapter is not mine, and the credits are at the end.

            Harry’s running and there’s someone chasing him, like always. He never gets to be alone, does he? No matter how much he runs or where he goes, there’s someone calling _“Harry, Harry”_ all the time. And he _needs_ to run, he can’t stay here. He knows it. _I can’t hate a child,_ he thinks. “ _Harry”_. He runs faster, he can feel his body sweating. _I can’t hate a child. What is wrong with me?_ His legs are hurting, he hates the noise in his head and the weight on his shoulders and _why is this happening to me? I can’t hate a child, I can’t hate a child, I can’t hate a child…_ “HARRY!” Someone grabs his arm forcefully and… _What?_

            “Harry, wake up, for fuck’s sake, you’re scaring me”, a familiar voice says a little bit breathless. “Open your eyes, c’mon.” Harry does. He slowly opens his eyes and sees Nick hovering over him with a glass of water in one hand, the other smoothing his hair.

            Harry’s body hurts. He’d point his stomach and his throat as the worst, but everything’s aching. Right now he’s damaged goods, and not only physically. The worst part about waking up from his preview nightmare is that this one isn’t a memory from the past, it doesn’t go away when he stirs awake. He’s still trying to run… From himself, from his dark thoughts, from the way his heart’s acting without his brain’s permission. It’s not like Harry wants to _feel_ this way it’s just- how it is.

            “You were trembling”, Nick says, “and mumbling some stuff that I couldn’t understand, but. Mate.Talk to me.”

            Harry doesn’t remember much from the night before. He remembers leaving the house and stopping by a convenience store and buying lots of alcohol with the intent to drink it alone at home, but then he couldn’t make it to the flat and wound up at Nick’s door, begging to come in and drinking half of a vodka bottle in less than ten minutes. He also remembers texting Louis right before falling asleep and then waking up again just to drink some more. He isn’t wearing any clothes, he realizes, and…

            “Did you strip me naked?” He asks Nick. His voice is so hoarse some would say he’d sucked a hundred cocks the night before. It hurts like it anyway.

            “I did, yeah”, Nick says and pushes the water glass his direction. “You puked all over yourself and refused to shower, so.” Nick shrugs but Harry can see the worry in his eyes. “You never told me what happened.”

            “What time is it?” Is what Harry asks. “Where’s my phone?”

            “It’s eleven, I just came back from the radio… Your phone’s charging in my room”, he tells him. “You should go upstairs and shower, yeah?” He smiles hesitantly. “You stink, Styles”, Nick says ruffling his hair.

            Harry goes up to Nick’s room and finds his cellphone plugged on a jack by his bedside table and takes it just to access the damage from the day before. But he can’t, because there isn’t a single message or phone call from Louis. He should find it strange, but deep down he isn’t surprised. He was expecting Louis to back off, because Louis _knows_ him, because Louis _understands_ him, because Louis _loves_ him enough to give him the space he needs. And Louis must be hurting too, and he has a _kid_ who needs him at this exact moment, and he’s in a far worse position than Harry, but even now, Harry can’t make himself think about it, because his scars are so opened and alive and… Wasn’t he better?

            He takes a while in the shower, he tries to wash away the suppressed anger and the sadness and the sorrow and the guilt and every bad feeling he’s ever had, but they don’t go away. Although the water’s hot enough on his face so he doesn’t distinguish it from his tears, the sobs on his throat are a reminder that he’s broken glass, and he might’ve cut Louis yesterday.

Even though he didn’t actually _say_ or _do_ anything, he knows he unintentionally hurt him, and for the first time in four years he puts himself in Louis’ position, cause Harry’s the person who’s hurt the loved one and he can’t help but be sorry for it, for not being able to change the facts. How does he handle his own pain and someone else’s? Someone he loves? Because he loves Louis. So much. He hasn’t said it yet and it’s probably a mistake too, but. Oh God.

He closes the shower tap and towels himself quickly, letting his hair drip all over his shoulders while he moves to Nick’s closet trying to find something to wear. He settles for some red pants that look fairly new and the first jumper he finds – Nick doesn’t have many of those anymore.

Harry goes downstairs sniffing and aware of his reddened eyes. He’s not even hungover. Or maybe he is, but he just can’t tell the difference between what’s because of the alcohol and what’s the result of his post-Stella-meltdown. He hears Nick moving pans in the kitchen and gets there to face a full English breakfast with bacon and eggs and waffles and it’s the first content noise his stomach’s made today.

“Sit”, Nick orders. “Eat. You look like you’re in need of breakfast food for lunch”, he says.

A long time ago, when Harry was barely _somebody_ in the industry and had no idea of how to go about London being gay and famous and closeted, he’d cry on Nick’s shoulder every other night when he showed up at his old flat’s door after a bad meeting. Nick would always cook him breakfast food (mostly because it’s the only thing he _masters_ in the kitchen) and help him with whatever was on his mind.

“Thanks”, he says pouring himself what he believes to be orange juice.

Nick places the food in front of him and grabs two different kinds of syrups for the waffles. He doesn’t push or say anything, he just smiles and acknowledges Harry’s face’s a bit better and Harry feels it too. He feels the dried tears on his cheeks and the burning in his eyes, but also some lightness in his head as the food reaches his stomach.

“How was it this morning?” He asks trying to make some conversation.

“Tiring, I think  I’m too old for the breakfast show”, Nick says stuffing his mouth with the last pieces of waffles. “I might resign.”

Harry’s eyes widen at that.

“Wh-what? Why?”

Nick shrugs in response. “I don’t love it anymore”, he says. “It’s been too many years and I just- I don’t know. You’re the first person I’m talking to-- about this, so. What d’you think?”

Harry reasons for a while and then gives his answer. “I think you should do whatever makes you happiest in the world- and if Radio 1 isn’t it anymore… You quit.”

            Nick smiles like he’s thanking him and once they finish, he puts the plates and the rest of the tableware in the sink, telling Harry not to worry cause he’ll take care of it later. Then they move to the TV room and Nick puts on one of Harry’s favorite movies, going away and coming back with a blanket and chocolate chip cookies.

            Harry rests his head on his shoulder and Nick pets his hair through twenty minutes of the movie, when Harry starts crying again and Nick holds him tight.

            “Please tell me what happened, Hazz”, he asks. “I can’t help you otherwise.”

            “No-noth-thing happe-ned”, Harry sobs and buries his face on Nick’s design shirt. “I’m so-sorry I came back and-I’m--- still such a- a mess.” Great, he’s hiccupping now.

            “Hey, shh, none of that”, Nick says seriously, “I just need to know, love.”

            “Noth-ing happ-ene-d”, Harry says, “it just- I- I just”, he cries some more. “Oh my God”, he can’t, he just. How is he going to voice everything that’s on his mind? He needs to say _something_ though. “Stella’s here.”

            Nick backs off a bit to take a look at him. “Louis’ Stella?” Harry nods. “His daughter? And you’ve met her?”

            “I have.” Harry tells him. “And I thought- I wanted- _needed_ it to b-be great.” He sobs. “I really did and it- didn’t.”

            “What d’you mean? She didn’t like you? But how- you- you’re amazing with kids.” Harry breaks again.

He brings his hands to his face because he’s just _so_ ashamed. Of course that was Nick’s first conclusion, because he believes Harry’s good, he believes Harry’s able to move past things, he believes Harry can be the bigger person. But he can’t, can he? Because right now he should be having lunch with Louis and Stella but he’s crying his heart out due to his inability to handle being around a sweet, amazing three year old girl.

            “She- she loved--- me.” He chokes out, “and she’s so- so cute, Nick I- I swear, her- her tiny hands and- and her blonde hair and she--- she has his eyes.” He keeps sobbing and Nick’s looking at him like he’s starting to understand. “And she’s _his_ ”, he doesn’t _mean_ for it to sound to bitter, but he does, because she _is_ his, “and Briana’s. And you- you know-- you know why?” Harry asks avoiding Nick’s pitiful eyes. “Be-because he cheated o-on me. With-with her.”

            “Oh, Harry”, Nick hugs him again, “oh my dear.” His friend hugs him tighter like he’s trying to take some of Harry’s pain away. “Harry- I. I’m _so_ sorry.”

            “And- and there’s noth-ing… There will _be_ nothing if I--- if I can’t. How am I supposed to? I. It’s not her fault you know?” Harry asks exasperatedly. “She is so little, Grimmy”, Harry tells him, getting angrier by the minute. Angry with the situation, yes, but, most of all, angry with himself. “She is little and she likes to be called Star like I suggested before she was even born and she calls me _Arry_ cause she can’t quite pronounce the Hs and Rs yet and you know what she told Louis? She told him I’m his favorite of the boys cause I look like a _princess, princess Arry, papa_!” Harry cries out, a thousand words leaving his mouth. He’s so frustrated. He wants to punch wall. “But she- she is the real princess, you know? A real life fucking Disney princess so beautiful she is with her blue blue eyes because of her Tomlinson genes! And she is also so smart!! Like. One of the smartest toddlers I’ve met. Have I said she’s gorgeous? Because she is. God is she gorgeous. She is also _his and Briana’s”_ his sobbing mess repeats. “And every time I looked at her yesterday--- that innocent, small thing… The only-- the only thing I could see was the man I- I love--- fucking someone else. What does that say about me?” He finishes.

            “That you’re human, love”, Nick says and he doesn’t respond, just presses play again and pretends this conversation hasn’t just happened and that everything’s okay. Nick pretends he doesn’t hear Harry’s sobs and caresses his scalpel with soft fingers dragging them to the end of his curls.

            Harry’s always been known as the whole one. The one who’s had it easy, whose family had always been supportive throughout everything, the one with the charm and mass appeal. Harry’s always been known as the one who had his shit together, who could keep calm when necessary, who could face any situation and come out of it on top because he is _Harry Styles_. At some point he stopped being a person and started being a brand and now he just realizes that everyone was so wrong about him.

 

            Harry spends the next two days hiding in Nick’s house and he feels terrible. Louis doesn’t call but on Monday morning he texts a question mark. Harry’s had time to think and came to one simple conclusion: the only thing he can do is hope. Hope that he’ll be able to come to terms with it and hope it’ll happen fast.

            Never, not even in a million years, he’d make Louis choose between him and his kid cause the choice would be obvious and right and, well, Harry isn’t a bad person, things are just messed up. But the fact that he won’t give Louis a choice doesn’t mean he won’t make one for him anyway, because as long as he can’t handle Stella, he knows he _can’t_ , doesn’t deserve to, be a part of Louis’ life. How can they be together like this? It’s _insane_ to even think about it.

            So he gathers all the courage he has to call him and Louis answers on the second ring, but only says _hi, Harry_ after telling Stella not to pour more shampoo on her hands because _there’s no need, peanut, and it’ll hurt your eyes_.

            “D’you want me to call later? ‘S okay, Lou”, Harry says.

            “No- it’s- Lou’s here?! Y-yeah, just a second”, Louis asks and then Harry hears Louise saying _no problem, Louis_ and things moving around.

He also hears Lux’s voice saying she wants to be the one to comb Stella’s hair after her shower and Harry lies on Nick’s bed in fetal position wishing he could be there too and, more importantly, wishing he weren’t on the verge of throwing up.

            “Hi, sorry”, Louis says and now there’s no background noise. “Luxie called this morning insisting on meeting Ella and Lou brought her over before they go back to Paris…” He explains. “H-how are you?”

            “Lou, we need to talk”, Harry blurts out.

            Louis sighs heavily before saying, “I figured”.

            And Harry knows it’s wrong to do this over the phone. He knows he can’t speak things out and expect Louis to be okay with it and just go back to his kid and Lux and Lou, so he measures his words before saying them.

            “It was… Hard”, he starts. “Meeting Star”, he says. “And I- I thought it’d go completely different- f-for me? And I don’t. I mean. I’m sorry.”

            “I don’t know what you want me to say, H, honestly”, Louis says carefully but truthfully. “For what it’s worth… She’s a bit in love with you”, he can hear Louis’ smile like he still has some kind of hope too.

God, can Harry just _vanish_ from the face of the earth? Now would be a good moment.

            “I- she’s. Louis.”

            “Don’t do this on the phone, H. There are three girls upstairs waiting for me to come back with a smile on my face so we can all go on a pick-nick”, he says, even though by the sound of his voice he can be easily crying.

            A part of Harry wants to believe – maybe to justify to himself – that Louis is the one who’s to blame for all the suffering. If he hadn’t slept with Briana four years ago, they wouldn’t even be in this position right now. None of that would have ever happened. There would be no forgiving to be done, nothing for Harry to come to terms with, because it’d be just _them_ , still together, going on about life probably already married and thinking about _their_ _first_ kid.

            But another part of him, the bigger part, already knows blaming everything that’s happening now on Louis is stupid and _inhumane_ , because Harry _has_ already _forgiven_ him. He truly has. He knows it was a reckless mistake, he knows Louis loves him, he knows they are meant to be _LouisandHarry_ forever. It doesn’t change the fact that there’s a constant reminder of the darkest time of Harry’s life in their house right at this moment.

            “When can we talk?” Harry asks sighing.

            “Whenever- ‘s just… I’ll be with Ella the next two weeks, so.” Right, yeah. Harry can’t break Louis’ heart in front of his daughter, can he?

            “I’ve got- like, Zayn had said, well. He and Liam told me to go to the studio this week to just, like, hang out and record a few things? Will you be there?”

            And this might be a terrible idea. Whatever Liam wants him to record he’s a hundred percent sure that was written by Louis and just the thought of… God, how did he end up here? How did he come from being in sunny Los Angeles with his picture perfect life to messy gray London with his heart on his throat most of the time?

            “Not this week, no, but I- I can stop by, if you’d like?” Louis answers and then asks hesitantly.

            “No, ‘s fine, just. Whenever you can then? You tell me?” Harry’s a mess.

            “I’ll call Sophia and see if she can take care of her tonight and we can- hm, have dinner?”

            “Sure, hm… Where?”

            “I’ll go to the flat, it’s- it’s better if it’s private, yeah?”

            “I’m at Nick’s.”

            “Oh.” He hears the hint of sadness in Louis’ voice again and _they were so happy together_ ; fuck. “Come over, I guess?”

            “I- I will. Just tell me when I can.”

            They’re talking like two strangers scheduling a meeting, because none of them have an idea of how to handle this. What will come out of this conversation? What does Harry _want_? How is Louis going to react?

Because Louis already knows, Harry knows he knows, but he needs to _hear it_ from him, doesn’t he? He deserves Harry telling him why he’s feeling so weird around Stella and Harry owes it to him after _asking_ to meet his daughter. God, what was Harry _thinking_?

 

            It’s another worthless day until Nick gets home again talking on the phone with one of his ex-boyfriends, asking him for advice on what to do next – Harry’s always envied the way Nick goes through life. Since the beginning when he was a kid, he used to admire so much how Nick was free and careless and just effortlessly happy.

            There are a lot of people who fake it. Who drink it till they make it. But not Nick. He parties because he loves to and he loves like it’s the first time but never the last, cause he trusts life enough to know one day he’ll settle down for somebody who’s truly worth it and not just another means to an end. Harry envies how Nick can talk to his two year ex-boyfriend without crying his heart out and wanting to die. He also envies the fact that Nick ended the relationship because he realized they were better off as friends and not boyfriends, after all.

            Can he and Louis be friends? Can they reach this point in life in which they’ll accept they have a doomed relationship but they still want to be in each other’s lives? Is it worth the try? _Well, of course it is_ , Harry thinks. Everything’s worth trying when it comes to them, but does he want to? Does he want to look but not touch? Does he want to talk without really speaking? He has no idea.

            He tries to think back to a few months ago when he didn’t have Louis at all.

Was it better then? Can he go back to it? He doesn’t think so. He knows that whatever happens now he won’t be able to go back to where he was. Not after being around him again, not after having him in his family, not after sleeping with him.

 _He’s slept with him_. He’s slept with him after Louis being so fucking reluctant and vanished the next day. And of course it wasn’t because of _it_ , but because of the fucking _timing_ and still… Louis was right in waiting, they should have waited _more_ , and they probably would have, hadn’t Harry been so naïve and so stupid.

            Stupid is the right word. Cause Harry’s so so so stupid. He puts on a pair of Nick’s joggers and clean shirt and goes for a run around the block cause he’ll suffocate if he stays in one more day, and Nick lets him go, saying they need to talk once he comes back.

 

            Harry runs faster than he was running in one of his dreams. The cold wind hits his face full force and his lungs seem like they’ll give up at any given moment, but he just runs more as if he could escape his own skin. _Why am I like this?_ is his constant thought, and the cold air dries the tears as they come. _Why do I deserve this? Why do we deserve this? Why can’t we go back to the start?_

There are a thousand things that will always go unanswered. He doesn’t know why their teenage selves were closeted to a point in which people believed they hated each other and he’ll never understand why his life couldn’t be easier, why he had to think and act like a thirty year old at seventeen, why he never got to be considered normal by the people he worked for, why despite everyone in the world saying how awesome he was, he never felt like he was _enough_ and how he’d have to hide it time and time again with knock knock jokes and goofy dance moves.

            Harry’s been hiding his sadness and frustration for so long that he can’t do it anymore. He wants to scream from the rooftops about how angry he is with the universe, and fate, and destiny and just… Why would God make him love Louis if he’d suffer all the way through it? Why would God make him a guy, who is in love with another guy, just so they’d have to hide it from the world to a point in which it’d destroy them? And even then, they’d _still_ love each other, but wouldn’t be able to be together.

            _This isn’t right, this isn’t right, this isn’t right, GOD._ He stops.

            There’s a family walking past him and he notices they’re tourists, cause they’re speaking a foreign language and have tanned skins. And they’re happy. They’re a regular family who is happy and despite everything they get to go together on a holiday. He’s never going to have that, is he? Sure he’ll have a stadium full of people screaming his name, but a husband and a couple of kids waiting backstage apparently isn’t something that’s in the cards for him.

            Right now Harry thinks that he’d give everything up if he could just be with Louis. He truly believes they’d find each other with or without One Direction, because that kind of love brings you together in any circumstance. So right now he wishes he could go back in time and never go to his X Factor audition. And he does it – he goes back in time mentally and…

            And he and Louis end up in the same university in Manchester. Harry’s seventeen and Louis is nineteen and they meet ordinarily at a _café_ , maybe. Or some class they have in common, it doesn’t matter. They meet and Harry already knows who Louis is because he plays for the football team and everyone knows who he is – Louis is the life of every party and Harry walks around with the hipsters, but they sometimes frequent the same places.

            One day Harry’s drunk enough that he’s cheeky to the point in which he tells Louis his is the best ass on campus and Louis sasses him out saying that _I know, curly, it’s even better when you touch it_. And they take it from there. And they fall in love between finals and family problems and part time jobs. And they’re still together, living in a normal house. They’ll probably move to London one day, if one of them gets a good job offer. Maybe they’ll schedule their next holiday in South America cause they’ve already been to Australia. They’ll fight over the itinerary and Louis will yell because _you are so frustrating, Harry, fuck_ and Harry will laugh at him, making the fight end right there.

            Harry pictures many things for their imaginary past and future and it just makes him cry more, in the middle of a busy street in London, where anyone can recognize him. He doesn’t even care. He _hopes_ there are paparazzi around. Maybe they can register for the first time in almost ten years who Harry Styles truly is: sad and hurt and frustrated and rich and famous and wishing he could give this all up to be with the man he loves.

 

            “Hey, you’re back-”, Nick calls from the kitchen. “Your phone was going off insanely so I picked it up”, he tells him and gives him a bottle of water. “Louis says you can be there around seven.”

            “Kay, thanks”, he says and drinks the whole bottle in few gulps.

            “H… You know you can stay here for as long as you want right?”

            “… But something tells me I can’t?” Harry asks half smiling cause that’s all he can manage right now.

            “No- you can, it’s just. Well. Alex’s coming in tomorrow morning.”

            “I- what?”

            “He has a shoot here in London and a couple of weeks ago I told him he could stay here instead of a hotel, so. If you’re okay with it- I mean.”

            “I’ll… I mean. No, I don’t think I am”, he shrugs. “Sorry. I need to go home anyway, been wearing your clothes for three days now.”

            “You’ve also been washing them so you’re more than welcomed to stay”, he laughs and Harry does too, but just to be polite.

            The only useful thing Harry’s done by being here – apart from laundry – was contacting a few friends in the fashion world to put in motion his plan to transform Nick’s sketches in real clothes so he can actually quit being Radio 1’s DJ and start working on the brand. Maybe Harry _can_ do one good thing and feel proud of it.

            He usually isn’t this unappreciative with his life. He’s just- heartbroken, he figures.

 

            It’s half past seven when he arrives at the house. Well, that’s not entirely true. He arrives at ten to seven and spends forty minutes trying to even his breath and convince himself to get out of the car. How is he _not_ going to kiss Louis the second he sees him? How is he _not_ going to beg for sex again? How is he going to pretend every ounce in his body doesn’t want to have him? But how _is_ he going to pretend he doesn’t think about the past still? How _is_ he going to pretend Stella doesn’t bother him? How _does_ he admit to Louis and to himself that he is this horrible person who needs to avoid a child for something she doesn’t even have an idea that has happened?

            Harry rings the doorbell hating himself more than ever.

            “Hey”, Louis says and smiles opening the way so he can go in. “Was wondering when you’d decide to come in. I’ve already ordered Indian, if that’s okay.”

            “It’s okay”, he responds. Harry doesn’t think they’ll be doing much of eating, to be honest. He can barely swallow his on saliva so sick he is.

            They talk politely for ten minutes until the food arrives. Louis tells him he’s ordered it once he saw Harry’s car pulling over but he never came in, so. The timing was good after all – at least for _something_. They take the food to the kitchen and sit together on the counter and Harry feels like crying when Louis opens the second drawer beside the dishwasher to get the cutlery because _Louis, here is the better place, we take it out of the dishwasher and put it right here, we don’t even have to move,_ Harry had said when they started moving in stuff and Louis just went with it, because they had already argued over towel places in the bathroom.

            Harry manages to chew and swallow three pieces of food before giving up and going to the fridge to get some water. Louis has stopped eating as well.

            “Louis, we can’t do this”, he says supporting himself on the counter when Louis turns around to look at him. “Not like- not like this.”

            Louis breathes in and out so many times it’s weird.

            “You know what’s funny?” Louis asks him then. “Timing. Like- some people say that all you need in life is timing, but timing is a bitch, isn’t it?” He scoffs. “Because you had- you just… You _had_ to sleep with me first to- God, I knew it.” He kind of punches the air in frustration.

            “It’s not about that.” The last thing Harry wants is for Louis to feel used.

            “Of course not- it’s- it’s about Stella, _of course_ it is, I’m just saying- _timing_. I hate it. I hate it all”, Louis cries out. “What do we do now?”

            “I don’t- I don’t know, I just-”

            “I am _so_ foolish”, Louis says and Harry feels his pain. “I mean, seriously, what was _I thinking?_ How could I possibly believe you’d be okay with it? With her? Oh my God, I’m- I’m.”

            “Louis.”

            “DON’T, Harry”, he stops him, “don’t tell me to calm down.”

            “I won’t. I’m just--- sorry.”

            “You’re sorry? _You’re sorry?_ Great. Tell me _why_ you’re sorry!”

            “I honestly thought I’d be okay with it too.”

            “No, Harry. That’s not _why_ you’re sorry and you and I both know it.” Harry widens his eyes at that. What? No – no, Louis can’t see how terrible he is, he just- No. “You’re sorry cause the second you saw her you saw me fucking a blonde girl. You looked at a three year old who _isn’t_ to blame and you wished she didn’t exist because then, oh, _then_ I wouldn’t have cheated on you. That’s what you’re sorry for.”

            “Louis.” Harry cries. He really does. He’s not sobbing or making a mess of it, he just has endless tears coming out of his eyes. “I- I’m.”

            “I’ve thought it too, you know?” Louis says then in the smallest of voices, not daring to look at Harry. “Not now- but. Once or twice when I was really drunk. And she is _my_ daughter so what does that say about _me_? Thing is Harry… _I love her_. It’s unexplainable how much I love her and how much I want to protect her and--- and I would _never_ make you stay to deal with it because the way I love you… It’s unexplainable too. So if- if I have to rip myself in two so she can be happy and- and you can be happy—I will. Won’t even think twice about it.”

            “Lou…” He can’t see Louis eyes, but he knows he’s crying.

            “God, we are so doomed.” He brings both of his hands to his face and cries and all Harry can do is watch and cry too. And then he has this urge to hug Louis and keep him safe even if it’s for one second. So he walks across the kitchen and wraps his arm around Louis’s small body and kisses the top of his head while tightening his arms around him, because Louis is sobbing and it’s his fault. “I can’t- how am I gonna- how am I gonna live without you again?”

            “You don’t have to, you don’t have to”, Harry says.

            “But I do, don’t I?”

            “No, Lou, hey--”, he moves back a few inches to be able to look at him. His eyes are puffy and sad and Harry thinks his own are too. Mirroring each other in pain, like in everything else in life. “I can’t—I don’t think we have to. I mean. I don’t want to either. I’ve missed you, _so_ much. Our laughs and banter and late night talks. I don’t think I can go back to- like, zero contact...”

            “What are you saying?”

            “… We could try and be f-”

            “Do not say friends or I’ll punch you.”

            “But Louis.”

            “Harry. Don’t.”

            “We can’t be _us_ as long as I- I’m. I’m fucked up, okay? I’m damaged goods and I need to fix myself because there’s no way in hell we’ll be back to being us if I don’t- if  I don’t. You know.”

            “I know.” He rests his forehead on Harry’s chest and then untangles himself from his arms. “God, it sucks.”

            “It does. I’m so sorry. And so embarrassed and angry and just so, _so_ sorry.”

            “I am sorry too”, Louis says. They fall silent for forever. Harry has no idea of how much time passes until Louis talks again. “You need to go, H.” And his face is completely different. He doesn’t look vulnerable anymore. He looks empty. Harry’s dying slowly. “Liam’s bringing Stella any minute now. Just--- go.”

            “You know I like her, right?” Harry asks, because he needs Louis to know. “A lot. Like- she’s smart, and cute, and funny. She has a lot of you, you know? Or- like, some characteristics of your family, anyway. She actually reminds me of Doris.”

            “Godobye, H.” Louis repeats.

            “Lou. It is _not_ her fault. My heart isn’t rational, but _I_ am. I’m as in love with her as she is with me.”

            “Harry. _Get. Out._ Now.” He says, harshly this time. And then, “ _please_ ”.

            “Okay”, Harry sighs. “Bye, Lou”, he says kissing his forehead, holding lightly on the back of his neck and then whispers, barely breathes it out in his ear, “I love you”.

            Louis makes a strangled noise and doesn’t look at him again, so Harry walks himself out. And if he drives across town to sit at a pub and drinks to the point in which Nick finds him sleeping on a bar table at four in the morning, then it’s nobody’s business but his own.

 

-

 

            When the bell rings Louis is just getting out of the shower, cause he had to rebuild himself in less than twenty minutes to see Stella again. He opens the door and finds both Liam and Sophia there. Liam has Stella sleeping on his shoulder and Sophia is carrying a huge bear.

            “Hi, Lou”, Liam says first.

            “Hey, guys”, he answers and opens the door so they can walk in, “what’s that?” He asks looking at Sophia.

            “Bought it the other day to put in the baby room, but she loved it, so-”

            “Soph, take it back, no need to-”

            “Oh, Louis, fuck off, I can buy another one tomorrow”, she laughs and he smiles at her. “How was it?” She then asks and Liam waits apprehensively by her side. He just shrugs and lets his face fall for a few minutes. “I’m sorry”, she hugs him. He’s a bit overwhelmed.

            “I don’t know how we can work on it, but.” He rests his chin on her shoulder for a few seconds before separating. “C’mon, Li, give me my kid back.” He smiles.

            “She’s awesome, man”, Liam says while giving her to Louis. “Things will be fine, yeah? He just needs some time, I think.”

            “Yeah- whatever”, he responds, he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, he can’t _think_ anymore. “Thank you, for staying with her.”

            “Of course”, Sophia smiles. “We should get going, yeah?” She looks at Liam who nods and Louis thanks them once again.

            “Hey, Li?” He calls, Sophia waves at him going to the car while her husband stays behind. Louis changes arms with Stella cause she’s getting heavier now. She sighs lightly on his neck and he kisses her cheek before looking at his friend, who has that fond smile on his face; the smile everyone gives Stella, that he hopes Harry will one day. “Harry said you asked him to go in the studio this week…”

            “Yeah, is there a problem?” He asks worried.

            “No, just- what are you planning on giving to him?”

            “Not sure, but- maybe, that one you wrote a while back with Zayn? Who never made the CD?”

            “Oh, it’s a good one”, Liam nods. “Call me, yeah? I’ll try to stop by.”

            “You sure that’s the best to do now, Lou?”

            “We- I don’t know what we are or if we- if we’ll ever _be_ something again at this point, but we just- he said and I agree that we- we can’t _not_ be in each other’s lives again, so.”

            “I’ll call you”, Liam assures him.

            “Thanks.”

            Liam pats him lightly on his free shoulder and closes the door behind him. Louis sighs deeply before going upstairs with Stella. She’s been sleeping in her room since she got here, mainly because she claims she’s a grown up and if she’s done this once, she can do this again. But tonight Louis decides she’ll sleep with him, because he needs her. He needs something good.

            He changes her clothes and she stirs awake for a few minutes, but her eyes are barely opened. She smells like Sophia’s shampoo and is so soft. He caresses her face softly and says he’s just putting on her pj’s so she can sleep more comfortably.

            “You tay papa?” She asks turning on the bed and hiding her face in his shirt.

            “Not much, baby”, he answers whispering to her, “but I will.”

            “Lobe you”, she says and closes her eyes again.

            “Love you too, Star.” Louis holds her tight and kisses her hair when he feels a tear streaming down his eyes again.

 

            If there’s one thing Louis has learned about life is that it irremediably goes on. So he wakes up the next day like yesterday didn’t happen. He puts on a smile and prepares hot chocolate to Stella, brings it to bed and slowly wakes her up. They have a lazy morning in, watching cartoon and talking about everything and nothing and she doesn’t even remember he was a bit sad the night before.

            She decides she wants to play house today, so they go to the toy room and Louis spends the afternoon being bossed around by a three and a half year old wearing a crown and using kids’ plastic cutlery to drink real tea at exactly five in the afternoon cause somebody told her people do that.

            “Papa, how Stella say water?” She asks.

            “Water, honey.”

            “But mum say wa _rer_.” She tries to say it like American people and it’s cute, cause she can’t quite pronounce it yet.

            “That’s because mum is American.”

            “But Star can say wa _t_ er?”

            “Yes, baby.” He smiles.

            “Watah” she says then, “you say watah!” She smiles and Louis nods, smiling too and combing a Barbie’s hair with his hand; she crawls on the rug to reach a mini brush and give it to him. “Uncle Li say watah?”

            “Yes, cause he’s British, just like me”, he teaches.

            “Bwitish?”

            “ _British_ ”, he corrects her fondly; “it means we were born here in England. You are American and so is your mom, because you were born in the United States.”

            “Why is Stella not bwitish?”

            “Because your mom and I decided it was better if you lived there.” Louis thinks he’ll wait at least ten years to talk about dual citizenship with her.

            “Hm…” She seems to think for a while. “Stella say watah like papa and uncle Liam, tay?”

            “Okay”, he laughs endeared and kisses her forehead.

            “Arry British? Arry say watah too?”

            It took her a while, but she mentioned Harry. He knew she would. Doesn’t mean he was prepared. He’s never prepared to talk about Harry.

            “Y-yes, Harry’s British.”

            “When Stella see Arry again?” She frowns. “He said _soon, Star_ ”, she comments. “Want to play with Arry cause Arry have princess hair”.

            “Has”, he buys himself some time.

            “Arry _has_ princess hair, curls, want to put crown on Arry’s hair.” She says taking the crown off of her head now and placing it between her and Louis.

            “Well- we. We can visit the studio, would you like that?”

            “Arry studio?”

            “I think so. But if he isn’t, we can see uncle Liam and Zayn… Would you like that?”

            “Yesss, papa”, she jumps on him and knocks him on the floor.

 

            Louis makes sure he goes in the studio a day Harry isn’t there. He feels bad about Stella, but what can he do? He knows Harry needs time and honestly, so does he. He needs time to come to terms with the fact that he and Harry will maybe never get back together, he needs time not to resent Harry for not being able to get past things, he needs time to keep himself for breaking down – cause he can’t do that.

            (Louis knows what it’s like to hit rock bottom and he never wants to do that again. And he tries to tell himself he doesn’t need to, because Harry’s promised they’ll still be in each other’s lives, and even if it’ll kill him, it’s better than nothing, right?)

            He spends the day playing her songs and pranking Liam who is really trying to do a serious job in his room – Stella’s laughter is worth the world. The next day Stan drives to London to spend the day with them, and they walk around the city spoiling the shit out of her. She tells Stan about Harry too and Louis starts to think that that’s not normal.

            “He’s a shiny new object, Lou, course it’s normal”, Stan explains. “Plus, he does have princess hair”, he rolls his eyes and hi fives his goddaughter. Louis hates him. He also loves and misses him a lot when they go over a month without seeing each other.

            “Hey, what are you doing on the weekend?”

            “Not much, why?”

            “Fancy a trip to Paris?” He asks nonchalantly and Stan raises a brow. Stella looks attentively at them. “Was thinking about visiting Lottie and taking Stella to Disneyland on Saturday and Sunday since I need to get back to work on Monday…”

            “Disney, papa?” She asks. “SPIDER MAAAN??”

            “No, baby, Spider Man is MARVEL”, he explains.

            “Uh—” she frowns. “Star like spider man.”

            “I know you do”, he rolls his eyes and caresses her hair, fond expression on his face, “but you also like Cinderella and Mickey and Minnie, right?”

            “A lot”, she smiles and jumps on her seat. They’re at a diner a few blocks from the house, cause they have good and healthy food, which is a hundred percent better than whatever Louis can cook. “Take Star to see pwincess and Mickey and Minnie?”

            “Princesses”, he corrects. Some words she _can_ pronounce correctly but is too lazy to do so, at times. “Say it, baby.”

            “You take Star to see _princesses_ and Mickey and Minnie?”

            “Yeah, I will”, he smiles. “Would you like uncle knobhead Stan to go too?”

            “Knob Stan, yes!” She says excitedly. They laugh, but she continues. “And aunt Lottie, and grandma and all aunties and Ernie, and LuxieLux and uncle Lima- and auntie Soph with baby in belly…” She counts on her fingers. “And oh! Zaynie. And Arry! Arry can go meet family princesses.” She finishes proudly.

            “Oh wow, okay, okay”, Louis laughs, “how about uncle Stan and auntie Lottie and maybe Lux? If her mom lets her.”

            “No princess Arry?” She frowns.

            “He has work, love.” He must, anyway.

            “Taaay”, she gives in. “When we go?”

            “Stan?”

            “I’ll have to get back to Donny to set some things at work. Friday night works?”

            “Friday night works”, Louis agrees.

           

            On Saturday morning Louis feels happy. Like, properly happy. He’s with his best friend and his sister while Lou and Lux walk Stella to a stand so they can buy popcorn. He’s sitting on a bench talking to two of his favorite people while three of them are coming back and he can smile really appreciating life – because life is good to him, despite everything.

            He has a great family and amazing friends and a job that allows him to enjoy both. He can breathe without hurting. Even without Harry, now, he knows he doesn’t feel empty. He feels good. So that’s not the problem. The problem is that _with_ Harry, things are _so beyond happy_ that Louis doesn’t think they have invented a word yet, doesn’t think they can, cause if they could, it wouldn’t be so special to begin with.

            If Harry were here, in a perfect world, he’d be walking around with Stella on his shoulders while holding Lux’s hand and he’d be more excited about the Disney Parade than both of the girls combined. He’d have that goofy smile on his face and when Louis said to him to put Stella down cause he’d hurt his back, Harry would just frown and give him a peck on the lips, saying that he’d fix that with yoga later.

            If Harry were here, he’d convince Lottie to go on the rides with Louis because he doesn’t deal well with rollercoasters and when Louis came back he’d find him with little girls during their princesses’ day, helping the hair lady to curl some stranger’s hair while overseeing whoever was painting Lux’s nail and putting Star in a dress.

            If Harry were here, they’d buy cotton candy and get sticky with it because they’d let the sugar melt on their fingers just so they’d lick it afterwards, cause Harry would be teaching the kids that _that’s_ how you have a full cotton candy experience. They’d also spoil the hell out of those children, buying them a gift from every stand.

And late at night, when Stella was sleepy in Louis’ arms and Lux had her head on Harry’s shoulder while they waited for the night shows, the fireworks would illuminate Harry’s face and he’d smile big, one of those hopeful, innocent, breathtaking _Harry_ smiles, and Louis would let the world behind to just watch him – cause Harry’s the most magical thing Louis has ever seen.

            If Harry were here, Louis wouldn’t have to be imagining all of this.

But he isn’t.

Louis is happy anyway.

He is happy when the girls come back and pull his hands so he’s standing up and walking with them to a carrousel, and he is happy when they finally exit the park to go back to their hotel, with Stan carrying Stella sleeping in his arms and Lottie hugging him by the waist. Louis kisses his sister’s head and talks to her on their way back.

            “If our flat weren’t so small we swear we would have housed you”, Lottie tells him once they enter the car who’s gonna take them to the hotel first and then the girls to their flat.

            “’S okay, sis, Paris is expensive as hell”, he tells her. “And _you_ are _stubborn_ as hell cause I said I could easily pay a better place for you.”

            “Our place is awesome”, Lou interjects.

            “Plus, we _have_ money, we just spend it on other stuff…” Lottie says. “And you’ve given me enough”, she smiles.

            “Not nearly as much as I’d like”, he says. “At least I know I’ll pay for your wedding one day.”

            “In many many years if that ever happens”, Lottie scoffs.

            “Charlotte”, Louis puts a hand on his chest, “I’m outraged.” He fakes it.

            “One day, maybe”, she offers.

They spend the ride in comfortable silence until Lottie talks again to let them know they’ve arrived.

“Hey, we’re here”, she says when they park in front of the hotel. “So fast”, she pouts.

            “Come have breakfast with us tomorrow, yeah? Maybe we can skip the park and visit the tower.” He tells them, figuring they’ll all be super tired from this entire day and Stella will like to see the big Eiffel Tower.

            “Yes”, Stan smiles, “thank God.” They all laugh.

            “Uncle Louis?” Lux calls from Lou’s lap. “Where’s uncle Harry?”

            “Hm- London, honey.”

            “Yeah, right. Why isn’t he here?” She asks and Louis doesn’t know how to answer. “It’s just… If you fight again… I will still see you, yeah?”

            “Oh, princess”, Louis’ heart melts, “of course you will”, he assures her and looks at Lou to have the confirmation. “Plus, now that Stella knows you, she’ll always want to see you when she comes here.”

            “I’d like that”, she smiles and moves to kiss Stella’s hair lightly not to disturb her sleep.

            “I’d like that too.” He replies and kisses her head before opening the car door. He lets Stan get out first, cause he’s still carrying Stella and then exits the car himself, with a bunch of gift bags.

            He’s about to close the door when Lou gets out of the car and holds his arm. He signals to Stan that he can go in because it’s already pretty cold to stay out with Stella and turns to Lou, who’s with her hands in her pockets and an uncertain expression on her face.

            “You know… It was terrible, back then”, she starts. “We had to sedate Harry the first night and I- I blamed you so much, Louis”, she says. “Harry’s always been like a little brother to me and to see him like that I--- I don’t know. I promised myself that I’d take care of him and—I know I had to do that, at least while the band lasted. But I never even thought about what you felt when you lost almost everybody on the road, except for Liam and. That was wrong.”

            “Lou, ‘s fine. I get it.”

            “You’re my daughter’s godfather, Louis, it’s not fine. I was wrong. I made a mistake. I’m sorry.” Louis wants to cry. He really does. So he just opens his arms and hopes she’ll hug him. She does. “Lux’s missed you a lot and so have I”, she whispers. “I’m sorry.”

            “Missed you too”, he chokes out. “A lot.”

            “Thanks for all the gifts and cards”, she says. “You never stopped. Not on birthdays and not on Christmases and—I was wrong.”

            “You protected him”, he says back, “you protected him when I couldn’t and I’m thankful for that. Always will be- to whoever takes care of him.”

            “He’ll come around, you know?” She tells him. “He’s been trying a lot and crying a lot too”, she smiles weakly. “He loves you, Lou”, she says gripping his hands.

            “I love him too.”

            “I know. Trust me.” She smiles. “It’ll be okay”, she hugs him one more time and ruffles his hair. “See you tomorrow.”

            “See you.”

 

-

 

            Harry has this perfect idea and he can’t put it on paper. He knows what he wants to write about, but he doesn’t know _how_ to write it, so eventually he gives up and leaves the flat, making his way to Radio 1’s building to meet Nick. He figures Alex will be there, but so will Ed, who has texted him saying he’s finally back in London, but just for a few days.

            He takes his notebook with him hoping the idea will come eventually. Once he arrives at the building, Nick’s interviewing Ed and Alex’s sitting outside the room not to disturb. Harry says hi to everyone – people he’s known for forever now – and sits by Alex’s side, saying a polite _hi_ and watching the interview with him. And then Ed notices him and says “is that mister Harry Styles?” into the mic. That’s how he ends up on air as well.

            Once the interview is over, only ten minutes after he’s arrived, Ed gets up and hugs Harry so tight that makes him wonder why they haven’t seen each other in such a long time.

            “Looking good, mate”, he tells Ed, cause he does.

            “Eh- seen you look better”, Ed mocks him but Harry can’t help but agree. “How are you and lover boy?” He asks and only then realizes Alex’s there and that might be a bit awkward. “Oh, sorry mate.”

            Alex shrugs.

            “We- aren’t”, Harry answers.

            “Wait, what? You’re all over the internet again, Harold. People have been asking me about all of my songs connected to you.” Ed laughs.

            “Yeah well.”

            “Harold here is being a baby, basically”, Nick says putting a hand on his shoulder to let him know that he’s kidding. Ed looks at them like he can’t understand. “He’s met Stella. Louis’ daughter. And he freaked out a bit.”

            “Oh”, Ed’s eyes widen. “How was that, H?”

            “Weird. I freaked out.” He agrees with Nick.

            Alex laughs loudly. The three of them look at him.

            “Harry”, Alex starts, “ _please_ tell me you did not break my heart to end up miserable yourself.” He says smiling but his eyes give him away. Harry’s heart breaks a bit at that. “Seriously, though.”

            “God, I messed everything up, didn’t I?” He sighs.

            “You kinda did, mate”, Nick says.

            They go back to Nick’s house and Harry cooks to everyone. To both of his best friends and his ex-boyfriend with whom he is _fine_ speaking to but not completely comfortable after hearing what he’s heard. Not that he didn’t deserve it, he totally did.

            Ed tells them about South America and how he loved touring there again, especially in bigger venues and more countries. _People are insane down there_ , he says, and Harry completely agrees – they are insane in the best way and he finds himself missing the Where We Are Tour when everything was perfect. Looking back now, Harry thinks that up until then things were _good_ for everyone. And then the tour ended, Zayn decided he wanted to leave, he and Louis started fighting about coming out… Things got even harder. He can’t pinpoint exactly when One Direction stopped being perfect to them (despite the everyday problems), but he knows it was somewhere at the end of 2014.

            They finish eating together and Alex says he needs to go out to meet some friends, but it was nice seeing Ed and Harry again.

            “Seriously, H. You left me to be happy, so freaking _be_ happy, please.”

            “Are you? Happy, I mean?” He asks.

            “I am”, Alex smiles. “I’ve- kinda met someone? ‘S not serious, but it’s a good rebound. I’ll be fine, Styles, don’t worry.”

            Harry smiles and they hug again, and when Alex leaves, he shows Ed the song he’s been trying to write. Nick leaves him be and goes to watch some bad television, and when they get hungry again, Harry decides it’ll be better if they hit a pub, just like old times, cause he needs a pint even if it’s four thirty pm.

            Ed helps him finish the song. He doesn’t know what he’ll do with it, but he knows he’d like to record a demo. So he gives Liam a call and asks if it’s all right if he shows up with Ed at the studio. _Sure, mate_ , Liam answers. It’s Tuesday and Louis is probably back at work, but they’ll have to see each other eventually.

            On the way there, Ed tells him he’s been to 78 Productions a few times, actually, cause he has a friend working with Louis and he writes with him sometimes. Harry thinks it’s crazy how their lives are always intertwined, even when they don’t intend to and mainly because they have the same friends in the industry.

Of course they’ve always had separate groups: Louis with his _party lads_ back then and Harry with his LA _snobs_ (that’s how Louis would call them just to piss Harry off), but when it came to sit and work, write songs and put feelings out, they’d always choose the same people – maybe because those people knew the both of them enough to understand at least 15% of what they felt for each other and could help them to write that down.

“Ed, mate, good to see you”, Liam says as soon as they enter the building. “This is Richard, one of our producers, and this is Normani—”

            “We’ve met…” Ed smiles and waves at her.

            “And Harry I think you already know.”

            “We were both in a band when we last saw each other”, Harry smiles and she does too. “Time flies.”

            “It sure does”, she smiles, “oh, hi, Lou”, she says and Harry looks back, Louis is just entering the room and seems surprised to see Harry there, like Liam didn’t tell him he was coming. Oops.

            “Hey… Guys”, Louis says. “Ed”, he smiles and goes to hug him first, cause Harry figures that’s easier. “Hi, H”, he says and Harry hugs him too, because, well, it’s instinct, he supposes. “Hey”, Louis says more softly.

            “Missed you”, Harry says and makes everyone a bit uncomfortable.

            “Uh-hm… Normani, could you, hm, come to my office, please? Zayn and I have a proposition for ya.”

            “Sure”, she lights up and goes easily with him, leaving the rest of them in the room.

            Harry talks to the Richard guy for a while explaining what he and Ed have thought for the song and Liam seems interested too. At some point the Sam guy Harry’s met a while ago arrives too and they start recording. It’s supposed to be a _feat_ , but Harry decides it’s better for Ed’s voice alone. Ed has given him so many songs over the years, if he likes this one, Harry thinks he should keep it.

            The lyrics are about trying to figure out how to go on living without that one person. It’s about trying to imagine them with someone else and hoping one day you’ll be okay with it, but, most importantly, is knowing that you’ll never be the same without them. Harry plays guitar with him before they record it for real, and Liam gives them a few inputs on the chorus.

                       

            It’s almost eight pm when they finish and Liam says he needs to leave to have dinner with Sophia, but if they want to hang out there Louis is probably still in his room with Zayn and Normani discussing tour stuff for next year and they can use his room to eat some pizza or whatever. The producers go, but Harry and Ed decide to stay, mostly because they’re too lazy to move now – or that’s what Harry tells himself.

 

            “Hm- excuse me”, Normani enters the room, “I just wanted to say bye.”

            Louis is behind her and flops by their side on the couch as Ed gets up to hug her and so does Harry – who then sits back again by Louis’ side, knees touching. He’s dying to kiss him. He doesn’t feel like he can.

            There’s nothing worse than _limbo_ , he thinks. And that’s exactly where they are right now. Zayn comes right after them with a few beers and places it on the coffee table in front of Liam’s sofa.

            “So- today was a good day”, Zayn says. “I’d like to toast to it.”

            “Yeah?” Ed asks. “Good on ya, mate”, he says and they toast. “What’s happened today?”

            “Zayn here hit number one in the US with his new single”, Louis smiles, “and we got his arena tour up to a stadium one- _and_ , Normani agreed to open for him. So.” He finishes proudly.

Harry’s _so_ damn proud of the both of them.

            “I’m so proud of you”, he voices. “You both.”

            “Thanks”, Louis says and he’s not sure, but he thinks he blushes.

            “How’s Stella?” Harry asks earning a weird look from Zayn.

            “G-good”, Louis kinda chokes out. “She’s with mom back at the house, cause I couldn’t stay away from work this week.”

            “Jay’s here?” Harry’s eyes widen. “I miss her.”

            “Yeah well- last time you saw her was in Paris, that day, right?” Louis asks.

            “Yeah…” He answers wondering if it’s okay if he asks to see her again. Ed and Zayn watch the exchange curiously. Louis seems to know exactly what he’s thinking, because he just nods like he’s saying _yes, but let’s talk about this alone_. “Hm, Lou, can we- remember when we said we’d try and write together again?”

            “Sure.”

            “D’you think we could try now? Like, the four of us?” Harry suggests. “It worked once, and I have—” he opens his journal, “I have this chorus that I think it’s really good, but we could... I don’t know.”

            “Can I grab a guitar?” Ed asks.

            Louis says _yes, of course_ and comes back with two, offering one to Harry.

            They start humming melodies and Zayn improves Harry’s chorus, but Louis is quiet the whole time, just writing things down on his phone. It’s another half hour until Ed asks _what’re you doing there mate?_ and Louis reads out what could be the first verse of the song.

            “H, start playing from the beginning, the melody you’d thought at first”, he points, cause they have already thought about many. So Harry starts, and Louis sings a bit uncertain looking down at his phone. “ _This town was a lovers’ stage, but now you can’t recognize… The street lights that are daggers to your eyes. You can’t find your bearings, you’re slipping into the ground…_ ” He stops sings. “Then I need something after that to continue… I think…” He frowns, types something, and sings again acapella. “ _This scene has no color and no sound._ Does that sound good?”

            “Sing it again, mate”, Zayn says and Harry starts playing again, from the beginning.

            Louis sings it again and Harry can see where this is going, how Louis is writing this about him, about the both of them, and how the chorus will become about them too, once the song is complete. Harry’s already overwhelmed.

            “That’s sick, bro, go on.” Ed says and picks up the guitar again, to accompany Harry.

            Louis continues, then.

            “ _Do you still believe in me, after the things I’ve done? Do you fear for what we have become? The ground is uneven; we stumble from day to day… But shelter where it’s easy. I know your feet are like lead, but you’ve gotta get underway.”_

            Harry comes in with the chorus then, being careful not to cry, he stops playing and lets Ed lead it.

            _“Drag your heart up to the starting line; forget the ghosts that make you old before your time. It’s too easy to get left behind. I know you’ve been kicked around, but tie up your thoughts and lay them down on me.”_

“Fuck, that’s good”, Louis says smiling and Harry beams at him.

            “It is, let’s put it together again, show me your notes.” Ed asks.

            So Louis lets him sing it and Harry finds it mesmerizing. Everything is in Ed’s voice, but that’s one of those songs that became so personal that he wants to sing it himself. He lets Ed finish though, and Zayn asks Harry to play the melody while he types something in his laptop, cause he thinks he has an idea. He shows it to Louis first, and Louis nods, encouraging him to sing.

            Zayn nods to Ed and he plays again. Harry sits back and drinks a few gulps of his beer that is already getting hot.

            _“Each heart is a paper kite, blown around by the breeze, but love won’t rest till it brings you to your knees…”_ He looks between Louis and Harry. Harry feels intimidated and… Something else. It’s like Zayn’s giving him a warning the best way he knows: enigmatically. _“Some find it easy, some will never even know, you think you’ve done your journey, then you stumble and find that there’s such a long way to go_. And then we get back to the chorus…”

            “What if we change the second chorus?” Ed puts in. “And then after the bridge we repeat it… Cause we’ll need a bridge.”

            It takes them a while to come up with the second chorus, and at the end, Ed and Louis decide what it will be.

            _“Drag your heart up to the starting line; forget the ghosts that make you old before your time. It’s too easy to get left behind… I know you’ve been kicked around, you wanna be lost and I be found, let’s take the back way into town… And drink to the bad times, lay them down on me.”_

            “I liked it”, Harry says. “Drink to the bad times, sounds about right”, he laughs humorlessly.

            “Don’t I know”, Louis rolls his eyes and then yawns. “God, what time is it?”

            “Midnight”, Zayn sees on his phones.

            “Fuck, I gotta go”, Louis gets up quickly. “Oh--- damn”, he says.

            “What, mate?” Ed asks.

            “Stella. I didn’t even call to say goodnight”, he sighs. “Shit.”

            And Harry feels bad for him and for her – she’s a little kid who can’t see her father every day and when she’s supposed to see him, he misses her bedtime. They all got so caught up in writing that Harry doesn’t blame _himself_ for it, but gets up as well saying they should pack up and leave then – they can come up with a bridge some other day.

            Zayn takes the guitars back to the room they belong and Ed looks for a bin to throw the bottles of beer and pizza boxes. Harry’s been eating so much pizza since he got back to London that he feels like he needs to get back to training asap or he’s body will start changing and he needs to keep in shape for tour in less than four months.

            Time really flies when you’re feeling good, he thinks. It’s mid-October already and so much has happened since the beginning of August that if he hadn’t _lived_ it, he wouldn’t even believe.

            The other day he called Anne and told her about his meltdown. He asked her if she didn’t think they had moved too fast, but she dismissed him, saying that _you’ve moved in with him at sixteen, honey. Fast is the only way you two know how_. She must’ve been right.

            He looks at Louis now going back to the house alone and wonder what it’d be like if he could go with him. Because he wants that. So much it literally hurts his bones that he was such a fuck up the week before dealing with Stella. He wants to be better and he is trying to be okay with it and he thinks about asking to see her again, but it’s not a good time, because it’s midnight, because they’re all tired, because Louis needs to go back to his daughter who is his priority.

 

            “Anybody need a ride?” Louis asks.

            “Me”, Zayn says getting inside the elevator with them. “But I might crash at your place if you don’t want to go out of your way.”

            “Works for me”, Louis shrugs.

            Once they’re in the parking-lot, there are only two cars there: Louis’s and Harry’s. They hug each other before parting ways and Harry can’t help but kiss Louis’ forehead with a promise of _talk to you soon_. He drives Ed home first and goes back to the flat, where he’s been sleeping poorly – cause he’s alone – but still better than anywhere else.

           

-

 

            Louis wakes up the next day with Stella peppering kisses all across his face and saying _missed you papa_ with a huge smile. It’s still too early and she tells him _grandma_ is asleep in the guest room, and she slept all by herself like a big girl in her own room.

            They stay in bed and she’s still soft and calm, so Louis grabs his phone to go through his emails. There’s one from Harry at three am saying he’s sending the song lyrics and he’s written a bridge, but will only put it definitively if Louis likes it.

            Louis reads the lyrics again and when he gets to the end, the final verse before the last chorus, it says: _boy, I still believe in you, you’re too good to fall so low. We’re gonna find a better life, I know. Things will be clearer, and soon as we make a start we’ll be that much nearer... We’re too old to just stand here waiting to break apart_.

            Harry does not want them to break apart. Good. Louis doesn’t either. They just need to drag their hearts up to the starting line. And that has proven to be their hardest challenge.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song used in this chapter is Starting Line, by Keane. They're amazing and this song gives me hope and makes me cry and I just..... 
> 
> Pls listen to it if you can :)


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only thing wrong with faith and love and belief is not having it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) You have no idea whatsoever of how happy your comments make me. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.  
> 2) There's a dialog somewhere at the end of the chapter that was inspired by One Tree Hill - just in case you think you've "seen it somewhere". I couldn't help myself.  
> 3) Disclaimer: the song used in this chapter is not mine nor is it Louis's, and the credits are at the end notes.

Harry’s a calm person, generally, but he’s always liked punching stuff. Back in One Direction days he used to say that he was a boxer, and he wasn’t lying. Until the very last day in that band Harry boxed. He’d train with Mark whenever and for how long they could, and he’d let out all of his frustrations on a punching bag or his friend slash trainer. It used to work.

            So this is where he’s at. Mark has a gym in London now and Harry’s more than happy when he enters the place and sees a few familiar faces, from people Mark has always worked with. He starts punching things at eight am and only stops at eleven, when Mark comes himself to tell him to chill and recharge.

            “God, wish I could punch my own face”, Harry breathes out.

            “Hey, man”, Mark pats him on the back and offers him a blue Gatorade. “Here. Recharge and then come find me in my room.”

            Harry listens to him and drinks everything up. He talks to a few guys around him and waits twenty minutes till he can breathe properly. He’s definitely out of shape so he enters Mark’s office and the first thing he asks for is a personal trainer and signs off a membership at this gym, claiming he’ll come by every time he’s in London, but he’ll need someone with him full time next year.

            “I’m imagining you can’t do that since you’re a hot shot now…” Harry teases.

            “And you’re Harry Styles, you _out-hot_ me by a large, large margin. If you’re okay with one of my guys on the road, then it’s good that I can stay around here, but if you want me we’ll make it work.”

            “Thanks, man, we’ll see yeah? But as long as I’m here will you train with me?”

            “Sure thing, mate.” Mark laughs. “So, talk.”

            “What?”

            “Oh, Hazza, you haven’t changed a bit since the first day I met you, so.”  And that’s the thing about people who know you, isn’t it? They never stop _knowing_ you.

            “Lou and I are trying to get back together”, he gives in.

            “Yes!” Mark punches the air. “Sorry. I had a bet with Niall.”

            “You-what?”

            “Before the band split me and Nialler bet on you and Louis. He thought you’d get back together within a year and I said it’d take more than two. He loses. I win. Got money to collect”, Mark laughs and grabs his phone. “Sending him a text right now.” Harry laughs incredulous. “So, what’s got you punching things if you two are back together?”

            “I’m being kind of a prick”, he shrugs. “Unintentionally or not, I don’t know. Just felt like I could punch feelings out… Like back then.”

            “Did it work?”

            “Yeah. I feel lighter.”

            “What’s next then?”   

            “Talk to him again, I guess.”

            There’s nothing much to do, really. And if Harry’s going to make things right, he has exactly three days, since it’s already Friday and Stella will be gone by Sunday. He can’t promise Louis he’ll be fine with his kid without actually proving it to him, because they can’t be a couple only when Stella’s away.

            Harry knows he has a lot to work on but in a few days he went from wishing he had another life to actually wanting to work and improve this one. It’s funny how the roles have reversed, isn’t it? Louis had to win him back and now Harry needs to prove to him he’s worth trusting too.

            He makes a list for the day and he tells himself that if by 10pm he can finish it, the first thing he’ll do the next morning is call Louis up and ask him if he can visit. He wants to try again. He wants to make it work.

            “I need to get going”, Harry sighs, “but I’ll give you a call, yeah?” He gets up and Mark does too, saying Niall’s just replied that he’ll gladly pay whatever money he owes if Louis and Harry end up together.

           

-

 

            Harry was very tired and all he wanted was his free afternoon to be _free_. He and Louis had planned on eating takeaway food and watching The Walking Dead all day – even if Harry didn’t like it, he would watch it with Louis like the great boyfriend he was, but then Lou called asking if he could stay with Lux so she’d buy some stuff with Lottie, who had just joined the One Direction team for good on the second semester of 2014.

 

            Where We Are tour had been exhausting and they were in LA just about to start the promo season for _Four_ and their last few days of peace were being really enjoyable so far.

            “How can I say no to you?” Harry said on the phone with a confused Louis looking at him from the bed. He had just woken up and Harry was handing him a cuppa. “Sure, bring her over--- kay, bye.”

            “Who was that?” Louis asked in the middle of a yawn.

            “Lou”, Harry answered getting back to bed and covering himself. Even in California the weather was starting to cool off at the end of the year. “She needs to go out with Lots to buy some hair and make-up stuff and asked if I could watch Lux…” He started apologetic.

            “’S okay”, Louis smiled, “we can marathon Disney movies instead of The Walking Dead”, he said taking a sip of his tea and then… “Morning, babe.”

            “Morning, Lou”, Harry moved forward to give him a kiss. “She’s coming after lunch, though”, he informed, lying on his back and tilting his head to one side, cause this way he could watch Louis finish drinking his cuppa so they could cuddle for a while.

            Harry would never get used to his features in the morning – soft hair, kind eyes and chapped lips. He would never get used to having someone love him so much he’d protect him from everything.

            At times Harry would think he didn’t do enough for Louis. Sure he had been hypersexualized by the media at sixteen and gone on a few dates after that, not to mention the whole Taylor stunt, but, since the beginning, it had been Louis to take the hardest hits. From the very first meeting regarding the way they acted around each other (still in the X Factor), eighteen year old Louis had made it pretty clear he’d to _everything_ and endure whatever they threw his way so his sixteen year old boy wouldn’t have to handle that. They weren’t even dating then.

            Later, when Modest came, nineteen year old Louis continued saying that they should pin it all on him. _I don’t mind people calling me homophobic as long as they don’t bother H_ , Harry had heard him telling Jay once. And he really didn’t. Louis was obligated to tweet some ridiculous stuff, accepted to “get a girlfriend” and make the girl look like family and would deny the gay rumors at any given opportunity. He’d always say it was okay, he could handle it, but Harry could hear him break middle sentence each time.

            Whenever he brought that up – that he was older now, that he could handle his own part, that Louis didn’t have to deal with that, Louis would dismiss him, saying that _that_ was nothing, because he didn’t even deserve Harry. They’d been having this argument for forever now and it would always end up in kisses and _I love yous_.

 

            Lux arrived at two thirty pm, just right after they had showered and just before Louis started a back massage on Harry.

            “Maybe you can help me, Luxie”, Louis said. “D’you wanna climb on uncle Harry’s back?” He asked with a smile on his face. Harry eyed him suspiciously.

            “YES”, Lux jumped and clapped her little hands. She was getting smarter day by day; they couldn’t even believe she was barely _three_.

            “Ok, then, here’s what we do…” Louis started to explain and walk up the stairs again holding her hand. Harry walked behind them, watching with fondness the way Louis handled children. “Uncle Harry’s gonna take his shirt off and you make sure he lies on the bed and I’ll get some stuff from the bathroom, kay?”

            “Taaay”, she high-fived him and grabbed Harry’s hand, taking him to bed. “Here, uncle Harry”, she said climbing on the bed and petting the spot in the middle so he’d go there. “Lie here.”

            “Ok, but don’t hurt me!” He warned with a smile on his face.         

            “Never hurt you, duh”, she said messing with his hair, “hair growing big.”

            “Yes, it is”, he agreed with her, “should I cut it?”

            “Nooo, let big like Rapunzel.”

            “As long as Rapunzel’s hair?”

            “It’ll look great, Lux, I agree”, Louis came out of the bedroom with a towel and two massage lotions they’d bought in South America a few months ago – they’d been assured it was natural and extremely good on the skin, so how could Harry have resisted? “Ok, let’s get to work- here.”

            Louis straddled Harry’s back and sat on his bum, applying the lotion from the bottom of his spine to his shoulders while Lux worked on holding his hair and eventually wrapping her red hair tie in a messy bun. Harry kept that tie till he lost it somewhere in the world.

            “Uncle  Harry is actually sixty, Lux”, Louis started telling her, “but don’t tell anyone, it’s a secret.”

            “But he young! Baby face”, she said, lying by his side and examining this face from up close, running her fingers softly on Harry’s cheeks and nose.

            “Yeah, but that’s the catch”, Louis said, “he’s magical!”

            “Noooo!” She sat on the bed and put her hands on her mouth. “You magical uncle Harry?”

            “Louis is being silly, Luxie.” Harry told her laughing weakly because his back was really hurting and Louis was becoming a good masseuse. “I’m twenty-auch!” He complained when Louis pressed roughly on his right shoulder blade.

            “Don’t listen to him”, Louis told her. “He has convincing powers, he’ll mess with your mind.”

            “No, Lux! I’m twenty, I promise- auch”, Louis did it again on his left one.

            “Uncle Harry is twenty, uncle Louis, stop silly!” She laughed. “Let Lux help.”

            “Yeah, love, yeah, come here- yes, like this- now climb”, Louis moved her on the bed, “put your two feet on his back, like this- I’ll hold ya.”

            Lux had a blast walking back and forth on Harry’s back and he should admit it: it felt good. He got super sleepy after that and Louis said it was okay, he could take a nap and he and Lux would find something very nice to do and then wake him up after an hour.

            They did just that, and when they came back to wake Harry they all snuggled in bed watching Rapunzel, _because of uncle Harry’s hair_. Lux fell asleep halfway through it between Harry and Louis, face pressed to Harry’s chest. He kissed her forehead and when he looked up, Louis was grinning at him.

            “I’m glad this was how our afternoon turned out.” He said stroking lightly on Lux’s hair.

            “Me too”, Harry smiled back.

            “Is it okay if I pretend just for now that we’re married and she’s our kid and we have another one that’s still at school and that at night you’ll cook us dinner and we’ll play some boring board game?”

            “Can’t we play a cool board game though?” Harry asked and Louis laughed, kissing Lux’s forehead and then stretching a bit to peck Harry’s mouth. “What will I be cooking?” Harry asks.

            “Whatever you feel like”, he says. Harry can’t take his eyes off of him. “And I’ll either keep the kids from your way or I’ll join them and bug you all the way through it.”

            “But then nobody gets dessert”, Harry warned.

            “You’re not that mean.”

            “You’re right, I’m not”, he gives in and Louis kisses him again. “We’ll have a damn good life, won’t we?”

            “We already do, love”, Louis replied looking down at Lux and then at Harry again. “Thank you.”

            “For what?”

            “Everything--- for this life.”

            The lyrics of _happily_ came to his mind, and he sang it to him like it was made to be, slowly, like there was a piano with it instead of the pop beats they had put on the CD. Louis thanked him every now and then, but honestly, _Harry_ could never thank him enough.

            They continued talking about everything and nothing while Lux slept peacefully between the two of them, and once in a while Harry kissed her head and Louis brushed the hair out of her face. They’d be really great parents, Harry figured.

 

            Lou called right before six and they needed to wake her up with heavy hearts. She was sleepy in Louis arms when Harry opened the door and he gave her back to her mom. Lou thanked them and they said it was nothing, it had been their pleasure. Completely true.

 

            “Hungry?” Louis asked.

            “Want me to cook?”  

            “Want to take you out for dinner”, he smiled. “C’mon, H, call up one of those fancy, ultra-private, restaurants you know in town, let’s go out.”

            And they did. They had Italian for dinner and somebody was playing the piano when they asked for dessert, being obnoxiously in love and sharing it. Once they got home, right after ten pm, Louis pinned him against the door and sucked him off in the hall. They never made it to bed, just stayed in the TV room pretending to watch something but really just snogging like two teenagers. _Harry was ready to live this life forever._

 

-

 

            Harry has just had lunch and gotten out of a call with Niall. He’s coming to London again because he just can’t stay put anywhere and _I need to pay Mark back_. During One Direction he used to complain about traveling so much – they all did. He didn’t like spending too much time on airplanes and never getting to sleep on a proper bed, but now he’s always doing exactly that: traveling from one place to another nonstop. He says it’s different because now he actually gets to know the places he goes – Harry supposes he’s right, he wants to try it sometime.

            Now that he’s out of excuses, he makes his way to the flat to shower and then finally get in touch with Louis. He thinks about calling and sending a text, but he doesn’t want him to say “we should talk later, Hazz” cause he’s worried Harry isn’t ready, so he just puts on some comfortable clothes and drives to the house. Truth be told, he takes a while – again – to get out after he parks, but when he finally rings the doorbell, it’s Jay who opens it.

            “Harry!” She exclaims surprised and… Happily, he thinks… _Hopes_.

            “Hey”, he smiles. “Hi, Jay.” He gives her a smile. He also wants to hug her.

            “Hi, darling.” Jay smiles surer now, like the initial shock has passed.

            “Hm- is Lou… I mean.”

            “He’s out, but---- come in.” She opens the door further and he can see the living room is a mess with kid’s toys everywhere. Harry walks in and as soon as she closes the door she pulls him in a hug. “How are you?”

            “I’m good- I’m. I’m good. How are you?”

            “Good, too”, she smiles, “kind of tired cause I’ve been taking care of three children at the same time, but.”

            “Oh.”

            She’s about to say something else but two little girls enter the room running around with spoons and a mixer. _What?_

            “Ow, stop, now!” Jay says, “put this down, Doris. Stella.”

            “ARRYYY!” Stella yells and runs towards him before anyone can do anything and he instinctively lowers himself so she can hug him. “ARRY HERE GRANDMA”, she continues and tightens her arms around him. Wow. He wasn’t ready for _this_.

            “Hey, Star, how are you?” He asks.

            “GOOD. VERY HAPPY, Arry!” She says. “Doris, this is Arry!!” She calls the bigger – still little – girl behind her, who just gave the mixer back to her mom and she eyes him suspiciously.

Harry doesn’t even know what he’s feeling right now. He sees five year old Doris and remembers the five month old little princess he used to put to sleep when he visited Doncaster.

“Aunt Doris”, she corrects Stella. They all laugh. “This is Princess Harry?” She asks Stella.

“Yeah—curls growing, like pwincess, look”, she points.

“Hi, Doris”, Harry says, “can I get a hug?” He asks.

“You don’t remember him, darling, but he knew you when you were younger than Stella.” Jay tells her taking the spoon from Stella’s hand as well.

“Yeah?” She asks getting closer. “Oh. Harry Styles”, she says, “One Direction, too, right?”

“One Diuwection?” Stella asks.

“Lou’s band”, Doris explains, “Harry was in band, right?”

“Ye-yeah, I was in the band.”

“Arry friends with papa, Dowiiis”, Stella says impatiently. “Papa says he lobes Arry like uncle Lima lobe auntie Sophia.”

God, what are these kids talking? Harry looks exasperatedly to Jay, who smiles and seems a bit astonished by the girls.

“Hi, Harry”, Doris says. She’s in front of him still looking at him curiously.

“Give him a hug, boo”, Jay says and she opens her arms. Harry hugs her and refrains from crying.

“Where’s your brother?” He asks. “I miss him just as much as I missed you, even if you don’t remember.”

“He’s out with Lou, boys’ day”, she rolls her eyes.

“Oh, right”, he says and gets up. Stella goes to his side and he looks at Jay. “I- hm, should get going, yeah? Talk to him later. I should have called, I’m sorry.”

“No-Arry”, Stella complains and hugs his leg. “Stay.”

Jay looks at him like she knows he’s in pain. Of course she knows, of course Louis has told her. But right now Harry doesn’t know if he’s in pain. All right, he does not know _what_ it is, but it’s nothing that makes him want to run, which’s a good sign, he supposes.

“You can--- if you want”, she says. “We were about to bake a cake.”

“Harry can bake”, Doris says.

“How d’you know that, honey?” Her mom asks her.

“Daisy said the other day Harry from the band taught her to bake cakes”, she says, “and he’s Harry from the band”.

“Arry, bake cake with us?” Stella asks.

His heart is pounding against his chest because he wants to stay, he just doesn’t want to screw up. It’s terrible to not understand what you’re feeling. There’s only way to find out, he supposes.

“Only if it’s chocolate”, he says.

“YES!” The two girls yell at the same time and Jay smiles, leading them to the kitchen.

The ingredients are already on the counter and she holds Stella on one hip while Doris climbs on a chair so see what Harry’s doing. He lets them break the eggs and put the milk inside the bowl while he whisks with a green silicone spoon he’s sure _he_ bought many years ago.

They ask questions about the cake and if there is going to be frosting and if he knows how to make Chantilly. He even manages to talk to Jay during it, just everyday stuff. She tells him Louis had a meeting in the morning and when he came back Ernest was the only one who was up so he took him to play football, but they should be back anytime now.

“Dan brought them yesterday, cause they wanted to see Stella too and spent the whole week away from me…”

“And Ernie don’t like to sleep alone.”

“Doesn’t.”

“Yeah-that.”

“Yeah… That.” Jay laughs. “Cause she’s a big girl and she doesn’t need me to sleep”, she says and Doris is about to open a wide smile when she completes… “But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t climb on her sisters’ beds… That’s right, they’ve told me.”

“Oh”, Doris frowns. “Just because dad said Doris was grounded.”

“Uhum…” Jay laughs.

“Star sleeps well when mom not here”, Stella says.

“Yes, but because your mom doesn’t live with your dad”, Doris says and looks directly at Jay to make sure she won’t scold her for bringing that up.

Harry doesn’t quite understand but he has an idea. Johanna probably doesn’t like when they point to Stella that her mother and her father live countries away from each other. Stella doesn’t seem too affected by it.

“And because Star big princess”, she reasons and then shrugs.

“Ok, I think we’re done”, Harry says, “Jay, can you turn on the oven, please?” He asks. “Doris, get me a cake mould, please? If I still remember and if Lou hasn’t moved it, it’s there”, he points to a cabinet across from the kitchen.

“Sit here so grandma can turn on the oven, honey”, Jay says placing Stella on a chair.

“No- here can’t see. Arry!” She makes grabby arms to him. He leaves the spoon resting on the edge of the bowl and takes her on his arms. “Your hair is funny”, she says looking at him and smiling.

“Well, I needed to tie it up to cook, right?” He asks. “Just like yours”, he holds her ponytail and pulls it lightly making her giggle. She has a nice laughter, it doesn’t hurt him as it did two weeks ago and he’s not even surprised by it, just thankful, he supposes.

“This good?” Doris asks holding a round silver mould and climbing on the chair again.

“Perfect, now we have to put the mix inside the mould… Wait here, Star, just one second”, he says and places her on the counter, “stay still, please.”

“Tay”, she smiles.

He puts the mix inside of the mould and passes it to Jay so she can put it in the oven. Then she makes them all wash their hands and Doris tries to start a water fight, but Jay stops her right away.

It’s almost four pm and apparently Doris’ favorite cartoon is about to start, so they all move to the TV room and Harry realizes he hadn’t been here since he came back, not even when he slept in the house – oh God he wants to sleep here again, soon –, but isn’t surprised when he sees the same things, only with different pictures on the picture frames.

He sits there with the kids while Jay stays in the kitchen making some tea for them and juice for the girls. When she comes back and joins them, Harry sets a timer on his phone so they don’t forget the cake and watches the cartoon silently with the kids. His mind is working so fast he can barely keep up, if that makes any sense, but he tries and organizes his thoughts.

Objectively speaking, Stella is always going to be the living proof that Louis hurt him, cause she was the _result_ of his cheating. But right now, looking at her, Harry can’t for the life of him blame her for anything. It’s not fair. She has _no_ idea. How can he resent her for anything? How can he keep blaming Louis for something that happened almost four years ago when this beautiful, sweet kid is here tugging on his curls asking how many minutes till the cake is ready?

Nothing has happened as planned. Their entire lives have been planning and watching the plans go down the drain. Falling and picking up again. Why can’t Harry do this right now? He can, can’t he?

It’s hard, yes, but… Is living without Louis being _his_ forever really better than trying to get over his past? He doesn’t think so.

 

A lot of things happen at the same time after the cartoon is over. He sits on the rug to drink real tea on plastic pink cups, his phone beeps warning it’s time to take the cake out of the oven and Louis enters the room with Ernest, mouth agape and questions in his blue eyes.

“Hi, mom we-” Louis stops mid-sentence when he sees his daughter sitting on Harry’s lap. “Oh.”

“Papaaaa”, Stella gets up and runs to wrap her arms around his legs, “Arry here!” She says excitedly and Harry feels only a tiny bit exposed when Louis stares at him with disbelief written across his face. Okay. So maybe Harry should have warned him he was coming. But then again, he hadn’t come for _that_.

“Hi, princess”, he says getting out of his trance and on his knees to hug her properly, “how was your afternoon?”

“Gweat, papa, we have cake now!”

“Cake?” He asks raising his brows and smiling.

“Harry’s baking”, Jay tells him. “Hello, Mr. Ernest, mind saying hello to Harry?” She asks her kid who’s by her side eying Harry the same way Doris had.

“I know him?” He asks. He has blond hair like Dan, but he looks a lot like Jay and already moves like Louis. It’s amazing the things genetics do.

“You do, Ernie”, Louis is the one to say. “Harry met you and Doris the day you were born.”

“He is nice, Ernie”, Doris speaks for the first time, dropping her doll and its plastic baby bottle. “He’s from One Direction.”

“Lou’s band?”

They all say “yeah” at the same time, including Stella.

“Papa you sing in band with Arry?” She asks. Hasn’t Louis ever told her?

“I did, baby”, he says to her.

“Uhn- thought Doris was lying”, she says seriously and they all laugh, but nobody can say anything cause she moves to the next subject, “Arry cake is rrready!”

“It is, Star”, he agrees with her and gets up himself, “wanna help me decorate it?”

“I want too!” Doris complains getting up and walking with them.

“You can all help me. Even you, Ernie, but only if you give me a hug”, Harry eyes him from the hall, already out of the TV room and he caves in, going towards Harry, who picks him up and walks with him attached to his hip towards the kitchen.

Louis and Jay stay behind while the kids follow him and he places Stella on a kid’s chair promising her he’ll stay close enough so she can see everything. Doris takes her place climbing on a chair and Ernest mirrors his sister, dragging a chair all across the kitchen himself.

Harry starts telling them what he’s going to do with each ingredient so he doesn’t have to think about what Louis and his mother might be talking in the other room.

The worst part is that Harry doesn’t even feel like he’s intruding anything. Okay, this house is technically _his_ , or was, at some point, but it’s not that. It just feels right being there with those kids – he literally knows them, _all of them_ , before they were even born. Harry finds himself reminiscing the early days of the twins and smiling big now that Ernest is fighting with Doris on who holds the pan while Harry mixes the ingredients.

“I need to take this to the stove, just a sec”, he tells them and takes a few steps towards the stove to start cooking the chocolate topping.

“I want to seeeee”, Stella makes grabby hands towards Harry and he can see Ernest going to her rescue when he unbuckles her from the kid’s chair.

“Be careful, it’s too hot here-hey, no”, he says as softly as he can when both Stella and Doris almost rest their tiny hands against the oven.

“Hey, leave him be!” Jay calls and Harry looks over his shoulder, but doesn’t stop whisking, “here, come here”, she takes Doris on her arms and puts her on the counter at a safe distance from Harry and then takes Stella in her arms. “Ernie, go upstairs, Louis is gonna give you a shower after he finishes his, you’ll be just in time to eat with us.”

“Harry, can we play Mario later?” And Harry widens his eyes. He doesn’t know if Jay remembers – probably yes, since she has a surprised look on her face as well – but that’s all they used to do. Harry and Louis.

Whenever they went to Doncaster, they’d plug in Louis’ old video game in the living room and play Mario Cart till their hands were cramping, and the kids would always sit around them. Doris was never too interested in video games, much like Fizzy herself, but the older twins and Ernest would sit around them and watch for hours. Ernest was barely two and stayed in Harry’s lap the entire time, and Harry would even let him play with his control – in which times Louis would always win, of course.

“Sure”, Harry replies a few seconds too late, cause he’s already exiting the kitchen.

“Maybe Lou has told him”, Jay says, “they’re great friends.”

Harry laughs weakly and finishes the topping, going to the opposite counter again and pouring it over the cake. Stella helps him with the frosting and it looks _terrible_ to say the least, but amazing nonetheless. (There’s a moment when he gets a bit uneasy, cause Briana calls to talk to her and Jay answers the phone smiling calling Star to talk to _mommy_ , but he makes himself distracted with Doris and a story from kindergarten.)

 

They finish the cake and take it to the coffee table in the living room just in time for Louis and Ernest to show up. Louis is wearing sweatpants and a loose t-shirt and his hair is wet and he smells so good and Harry wants to kiss him so bad. He can’t. He looks around and Jay’s here as well as three children who have no idea of what’s going on. Does _Louis_ have any idea of what’s going on? Does _Harry_?

They eat. And drink. And laugh. And it’s funny and light and Harry thinks this is great progress. He’s not a hundred percent okay, he’s probably not even _fifty_ percent okay yet, but it’s almost six in the evening, he’s been here for four hours and it’s been… _Okay_. And that’s all he’s wanted for a while, right? That’s all everybody wants it, he figures as he remembers a quote from David Levithan that says: _if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: we all want everything to be okay. We don’t even wish so much for fantastic or marvelous or outstanding. We will happily settle for okay, because most of the time okay is enough_.  And okay with Louis has always been better than “spectacular” with anybody else.

He gets pulled out of his thoughts when Doris spreads frosting all over Stella’s face and they start a small food fight, when Jay steps in and says it’s time they all clean up cause she won’t do it after their mess.

“It’s okay, I can clean it”, Harry says, “go wash yourselves”, he smiles looking at the kids. Ernest has a piece of the cake stuck in his hair and frowns when he realizes it.

“ _Mario_ later”, he says following Jay and the girls out of the room and up the stairs.

 

“You’ve got frosting on your nose”, he tells Louis and moves to take it off, swiping his thumb on Louis’ nose and then sucking it into his mouth. Louis’ watches him attentively. “Ernest remembers?” He asks incredulous then. He knows Louis will know what he’s talking about.

“I might’ve told him last time I went home and we played”, Louis shrugs as if it’s no big deal.

“I’m sorry”, Harry says.

“For what this time?” Louis laughs but he’s not being mean, he’s genuinely curious, Harry can tell.

“Not telling you I was coming or- that I was here once Jay invited me in”, he explains, “I wanted to talk to you and I wanted to see Star and I figured- well, I’d just come. It was stupid.”

“No- I, hm, I was definitely surprised?”

“Not bad though?”

“No, not at all”, he smiles softly. “How are you?”

            “I don’t know”, Harry says truthfully and starts collecting plates and forks around him pilling them on the coffee table so he has something to be occupied with. “It’s been an interesting day, that’s for sure”, he laughs. Then he tells Louis he went to see Mark and tells him about the bet he and Niall made on them – Louis laughs too, but confesses he already knew about it.

They talk amicably for a while and Harry realizes it has passed a long time since Jay went upstairs with the kids… She is letting them talk alone, he thinks, and thanks her mentally.

“My statement went out this morning”, Louis says all of a sudden. “’S why I was out with Ernie, actually… Wanted to de-stress.”

“Lou”, Harry beams. “That’s so good.”

“Y-yeah.” He doesn’t seem so sure.

“Have you- hm, gone online yet?” Louis nods negatively. “D’you want to?- I’m asking cause I was-uhn, alone, when I checked twitter and stuff and I- I wished somebody was there by my side so.” _You_. _I wished you were there by my side._

“You don’t mind?”

“Of course not, _Louis_.” Harry says and takes his own phone out of his pocket to open his twitter and goes to sit by Louis’ side on the couch.

They scroll for over twenty minutes just to see Louis’s most flamboyant pictures of all times, since before the X Factor till the ones on stage. They also see all the Larry theories surfacing and all the papers talking about it. They see people speculating over his relationship with Eleanor and they see _HereForLouis_ trending first worldwide. They click on it and Harry pretends he doesn’t notice Louis crying with all of the videos and pictures of the both of them – old and recent. There are so many messages that at some point Harry joins him in the tear-shedding department. Oh, Lord.

“They always knew, didn’t they?” Louis asks sniffing.

“We were never that good at lying, Lou.” Harry tells him and turns on his side so he can kiss Louis’ forehead. “I’m really proud of you.”

Louis smiles through his tears and thanks him. And then they hear a loud noise and a baby crying and Louis goes into _Dad-mode_ , running up the stairs. Harry follows him to find Jay holding her close to her chest while she cries really, really loud.

“She hit her head on the table corner”, Johanna says.

“Hey- hey baby”, Louis calls her and she turns her head, jumping on Louis arms and buries her face on the crook of his neck. Doris and Ernest seem startled, but Harry doesn’t think about them when he flies to the kitchen to get some ice. Once he gets back to the room, that now he notices used to be their music room and now is decorated with kid’s stuff – which he secretly loves –, the twins are still quiet, Jay still looks worried and Louis gives him a thankful glance.

“Star”, Harry calls, “hey- baby”, he caresses her arm, “I’m going to put this on your head, okay?” He shows it to her and rests lightly on her head. But she screams and says _IT HURTS, ARRY_ crying.

“You need it to get better, princess”, Louis reasons. Harry looks around and finds an Iron Man pillowcase on the bed he supposes it’s hers; _that’s so Louis_ , he thinks fondly.

“Here- look”, he says wrapping the ice pack on it, “it’s a superhero ice, Star… It’ll make you better.”

“And you’ll be a superhero too”, Louis follows telling her and smiling big.

She’s sniffling when she looks at Harry again.

“Super-eoh?”

“Superhero”, Harry repeats, “you can be Super-Star”, he tries again with the ice pack and she winces, holding tight on Louis’ arm, but lets him hold it for a while. He alternates the time he lets it rest there because he knows it must be hurting a lot, but in the end, Doris comes close and says she wants _superhero ice_ as well, and so does Ernest, so by the end of it they’re all laughing, and Stella is better. Louis mouths a _thank you_ to him with her still on his lap.

 

It’s almost eight pm when Harry decides he needs to go – not that he _wants_ it (cause they’re all about to watch a Disney movie after he plays three matches of _Mario Cart_ with Ernest. Doris still doesn’t like it, but it’s forced to stay since Stella _loves_ watching, apparently), but it’s getting late, he’s getting hungry and, honestly, this day has been a rollercoaster of emotions. He announces he’s leaving when Jay comes back from her shower.

“No-Arry”, Stella complains and grabs the hem of his shirt, but Louis carefully takes her hand away, saying _be polite, baby_. “But Star go home tomorrow, will not see Arry.”

“Hey, but we’ll-”, Harry thinks for a second before continuing, “we’ll see each other plenty, yeah?”

“Yeah?” She asks hopefully.

“Of course”, he assures her. “Next time instead of a cake we can bake cupcakes, how does that sound?” He asks kneeling in front of her, who’s sitting by Louis’ side on the couch.

“Good”, she smiles, “and we can call Luxie! Arry know Luxie?”

“Of course”, he smiles, “she’s my goddaughter, you know? It means she is very very special to me.”

“Star your goddaughter now too?” Oh my. Harry’s heart’s torn to say the least.

“No, baby, you’re uncle Stan’s goddaughter.”

“But Star not important to Arry?” She asks Louis confused, who looks at Harry. He totally wasn’t ready for that, cause… He doesn’t know?! Of course she _can_ _be_ special to him one day, and she’s a kid, which makes her special anyway, but. Oh God, Harry hates this situation.

“Of course you are”, it’s Jay who answers. “Just in a different way, yeah?”

“Yeah?” She asks.

“Of course”, Harry replies. “Super-Star”, he finishes fondly and kisses her head. “Have a great flight back home, yeah?”

“Tank you”, she says, “now hug?”

“Now hug”, he laughs and opens his arms so she can bury her face on the crook of his neck. She’s so, so small.

After her, Doris and Ernest give him hugs too. Ernest asks him if he plays football and Louis laughs loudly. Harry says that he does, in fact, it just doesn’t mean he’s good. The little one then invites him to a match one day and Harry promises he’ll keep that in mind, high-fiving him and ruffling his hair before finally getting up.

“Bye, Jay”, he voices turning to hug her.

“Bye, H”, she pulls him in a hug.

“I’m sorry for- well, surprising you earlier, I guess.”

She tightens her arms around him, pets his hair and whispers in his ear:

“Thank you for trying.”

Her eyes are watery and Harry nods with a smile on his face. Louis says he’ll walk him to the door and they walk together side by side to the living room hall.

 

“We good?” Harry asks him.

“Hm- we are? I mean. What are we exactly doing here?” Louis asks.

“I don’t- know? I’m trying?!”

“Figure it out then”, Louis sighs staring at him. “You cannot do this to me, Harry.” Harry’s taken aback just for a second before he speaks again.

“What?” He asks trying to see where Louis is going with this.

“Look- you said-- at the flat you said I could call you on your shit if you ever- hm, hurt me?” Harry nods, trying to follow. “Today’s the happiest I’ve been in, like, a long, long time, yeah? And I just--- don’t leave me hanging on a thread of hope cause I really can’t afford another breakdown.”

Harry places one hand on Louis’ neck and brings him forward, kissing his forehead sweetly before stepping away again, opening the door.

“I won’t.”

 

-

 

It’s December and if Harry has to hear the word _interview_ again he’s gonna pass out. He’s spent November flying from city to city going on radio shows and promoting the tour and when he wasn’t doing that, he was _rehearsing_ for the tour that would start in February. When he wasn’t doing anything work-related, he was with Louis writing song after song in the studio.

They have kissed a total of two times and in one of them they were royally drunk thanks to a party Niall threw in his flat to celebrate a new CD he was invited to produce. He’s talked to Stella twice after she left, over skype, when he was in the studio and Briana called because _Star wants to see papa_ and he feels… Okay. Scared, but fine. Almost great, truth be told. Maybe they really needed time, but now Harry has no idea of what’s been holding them back.

He lands in London again at seven thirty am on the twelfth and as much as he wants to sleep, he knows he has to hit he gym. Another thing that’s been constant in his life.

“Thanks for picking me up, mate”, he tells Niall as soon as he gets into the car.

“Like you don’t have a fuck ton of cars and people to drive them for ya”, Niall rolls his eyes.

“We’re going to the same place!” Harry reasons and Niall just laughs, starting the engine and driving on the way of Mark’s gym.

They work out together for two hours and a half and then he convinces Niall to go to a health food shop so he can buy his weekly supplements. Niall snorts looking at his things but ends up buying a smoothie for himself.

“You going to the party tomorrow?” Niall asks.

“At the studio?” He nods. “Of course”, Harry tells him.

It’s the last work day at 78 Productions and apparently Louis throws a party every year for the staff and the artists and a few friends. Harry didn’t even know they had the space, but one day when Louis was feeling uninspired and said he needed to go for a smoke, they went to a huge terrace that was both beautiful and simple, just like everything Louis touched.

“I need to call Louis, by the way”, Harry says and fishes his phone out of his pocket, dialing his number while the lady on the counter swipes his card, but he doesn’t pick up. Harry figures he’s either sleeping or busy with work already.

He decides to spend the day cleaning up the flat cause, believe it or not, it distracts him and makes him feel rested. Harry’s never had much control of things in his life. Of course now he’s regained a lot of it, but still… Never 100%, being the public figure he is. So organizing things has always made him feel in control of _something_ at least. He changes the arrangement of furniture in the living room and then moves to the bedroom, but when he gets there, he doesn’t feel like he can change much.

It’s okay to move the couch from one side to another, but when he looks around the room, their room, he remembers exactly why the bed’s not under the window (it was like this in Louis’ childhood home and whenever it rained he’d get scared, so they decided against it) and why the closet was smaller than at the house even though they kept _so many_ clothes in there (because Louis wanted a bigger bathroom with a bigger tub in the suite). Harry remembers why they chose those exact pictures and why there is no TV in there (“this is for sex and us, Harold, let’s not spoil it with our Netflix marathons”).

He finally gets why Louis has never changed things at the house – because some memories are too good, and when you don’t know if you’ll ever create new ones, you just hold on to the ones you have as strongly as you can. Harry 60% _hopes_ , 40% _knows_ they will create new ones in this flat, but he wants them to be made like the first ones: together. Always.

 

-

 

“Well well, look who’s here!” Harry says as soon as he sees Lottie arriving at the party on Friday night wearing a long dress with her signature blonde hair falling on her shoulders.

“Hiya”, she goes easily to hug him, “how are you?”

“Good, you?”

“Missed you”, she smiles, “I’m great.”

She moves around to talk to other people and Harry makes his way around as well. He doesn’t know everyone but many of Louis’ friends are still the same. His family is also there – apart from Fizzy, who’s stuck in the US still doing her finals to be able to come home for the holidays –, so he mingles just fine, talking to Dan with Doris attached to his own hip for a long time. Louis invited Harry’s family as well, but Gemma’s with her fiancés parents on a trip and Anne and Robin were also away. Louis called Des, according to him, but Harry’s father’s still a bit bitter with everything – Harry doesn’t like it, but doesn’t push it either. If he’s learned anything these past few months is that everyone works on their own clock.

He makes his way to the bar to find Zayn already there, on this third glass of whisky – if Harry hasn’t lost count.

“Don’t you need to be sober to perform?” Harry asks.

“I’m not singing this year, Normani is”, he shrugs, “I’m free.” And then he finishes the drink, asking two more. One for him and one for Harry. “So, H”, he turns to him, handing him the glass.

“Zayn”, Harry smiles and they toast lightly before taking a sip. Harry winces at the taste, cause, _ugh_ , it’s strong.

“You know that romantic notion that all the garbage and the pain is actually healing and beautiful and sort of poetic?” Harry nods. “It’s not. It’s just pain. And you know what’s better?”

“I have a feeling you’ll tell me”, Harry half smiles.

“Love”, he says pointedly. “The day that you start thinking that love is overrated is the day that you are wrong. The only thing wrong with faith and love and belief is not having it. And you do, H.” Zayn says staring into his soul, Harry senses. It’s insane this thing that Zayn can do talking to a person. Harry’s never met anybody like him. “I’ve lost the love of my life so long ago that I’m just waiting for somebody to settle, you know? But you- you have it, right here, right now. Don’t let it go to waste out of fear.”

Harry wants to say a lot. First of all, he wants to ask who _“the love of his life” is_ , cause even though he has a pretty good idea, he doesn’t want to believe (cause that would mean Zayn really has _zero_ chances to get his happily ever after) and he wants to thank him. And he wants to say he’s getting there. But that’s all interrupted by Jay’s voice on a microphone, asking for attention.

 

Her speech is beautiful. She talks about how Louis has always dreamed to help people, about how when he was little he’d promise her one day he’d take care of everyone and they would be able to do whatever they had dreamed of and by now Harry’s already crying. Zayn rubs his hand in circles on Harry’s back and smiles and Harry just shrugs, feeling a bit stupid for being so overemotional. (He doesn’t even know, but one day he’ll be the one giving this speech too. _If he only knew what the future holds._ )

 

He isn’t surprised when he sees Normani taking the microphone after Jay, cause Zayn’s told him she was going to perform. He is surprised, though, when he watches Louis taking place on the piano. She introduces the song as a very special one, because it’s the first one “the big boss” gave to her. _“Zayn doesn’t monopolize his talent anymore!”_ , she jokes and people laugh lightly.

Harry then remembers months ago Louis talking to Liam about this song. He remembers Louis saying he wouldn’t sing it to Harry cause it’d sound better in a woman’s voice, but that the lyrics were about him.

He starts playing.

 _“Pictures in my pocket are faded from the washer, I can barely just make out your face”,_ Harry listens attentively to the song, paying attention to each word that she sings. _“Food you saved for later in my refrigerator… It’s been too long since later never came._ ” Auch.  Okay, his heart’s hurting already. _“I know one day, eventually, oh, I know one day I’ll have to let it all go… But I keep it just in case, yeah I keep it just in case..._ ”

She has a beautiful voice. Harry can only focus on Louis playing and trying to remain composed. Harry is the same.

 _“In case you don’t find what you’re looking for. In case you’re missing what you had before. In case you change your mind, I’ll be waiting here… In case you just want to come home_.”

There’s a gap between the chorus and the second part and Harry uses it to walk quickly to Jay’s side, in front of the small stage that was set up.

 _“Strong enough to leave you, but weak enough to need you… Cared enough to let you walk away.”_ Harry can picture Louis feeling small typing things on his phone or writing them on a piece of paper curled up in himself and he just- he wants to cry. _“I took that dirty jacked from the trash right where you left it, cause I couldn’t stand to see it go to waste. I know, one day eventually, yeah, I know, one day I’ll have to let it all go, but I keep it just in case… Yeah I keep it just in case.”_ She sings the chorus again, Harry’s silently crying when she reaches the bridge and Jay wraps her arm around his waist. “… _In case you’re looking in that mirror one day and miss my arms, how they wrapped around your waist, I say--  that you can love me again even if it isn’t the case._ ”

 

“I love him so much”, he whispers in Jay’s ear. “God.” He cries out.

“Go get him already”, she sighs and releases him from her hug.

 

Harry spots Louis behind the stage drinking some water and shaking someone’s hand. He tries to be polite when, in the biggest cliché of all the clichés they’ve experienced with each other, he says _excuse me_ before pulling Louis to his chest and kissing him in front of everybody.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might've recognized it: In Case, by Demi Lovato <3
> 
> Thanks for putting up with me and another long long chapter.  
> All the love xx.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And we stand together facing a war, and our love is gonna conquer it all. We are lionhearts."
> 
> Lionheart, Demi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know how to thank you anymore <3

At first Louis doesn’t move and Harry thinks he’s just made a huge mistake. They’ve been hiding their relationship for eight years now and he’s just kissed him in front of not-so-close friends, employees and journalists. Harry was stupid, wasn’t he? He’s scared. But he can’t make himself move, cause he’s kissing Louis. He is _kissing_ him and it’s addictive and _please, Louis, do something_. Louis does. He moves away. He literally pushes Harry’s chest so there’s space between them and… What?

“Please, tell me you’re sure of this”, Louis then asks not bothering to look around. Not that Harry _is_ looking. He doesn’t register anything but Louis’ features, Louis’ voice, _LouisLouisLouis_.

Harry kisses him again. Forcefully, bringing their bodies together once again and not letting Louis separate them. He grips tightly on Louis small waist and traps him with one arm, raising the other one to rest on his chin and guide the kiss. Harry’s always loved to be led, but right now he needs to make sure Louis _understands_ there isn’t anything else for Harry in this world. There never was.

“I need you to say it, H”, Louis says to his lips, without disconnecting their bodies.

“I’m sure of it- fuck, I’m so sure of it”, Harry breathes out, eyes roaming Louis’ face up close. Eyes, eyelashes, cheek, cheekbones, nose, mouth, lips. “I love you.”

“Thank God”, Louis replies rapidly and yanks him forward smashing their lips one more time. Slowly during the kiss Harry starts to worry about the chatter around them and the people that are there and has he just noticed a flash? What? He opens his eyes, pecks Louis mouth once and raises an eyebrow, looking around.

The only people that have _stopped_ to watch were Lottie, Niall (probably where the flash was coming from), Liam and Sophia. Jay has her back to them and Zayn’s still across the room laughing lightly talking to Dan now and one of the twins. The people who Harry assumes work at 78 Productions are doing their best to ignore what has just happened and pretend they didn’t just see that. So Harry smiles. It’s the most sincere and happy smile he’s given since Louis got on one knee in January 2015 and asked Harry if he wanted to marry him.

“I love you too”, Louis says mirroring Harry’s smile. Harry’s glad they’re mirroring in happiness now. “If that wasn’t clear enough by now”, he laughs and Harry does too.

“I’ve just lost _so much money_ ”, Lottie cries out making them look at her and places an arm around her brother’s shoulder.

“Are they done?” Jay asks laughing and Charlotte answers _yeah_. She then turns around. “I won!” And hugs the both of them, leaving only her daughter’s arm stuck between the bodies. Lottie complains and they separate. The party’s still happening, but Harry feels like he’s in a private one right now.

“What have you won, mother?” Louis asks but they already know. People have bet on them. A lot of people. Harry should feel objectified. He’s endeared.

“Ten thousand pounds, if my mathematics is correct.”

“You’re all insane”, Louis says, brightly, like they’re the best kind of crazy.

 

The party goes one after that. They eventually break apart with the promise they’ll talk soon and Louis mingles with the people he’s supposed to. Harry’s already sorry for the amount of personal questions the journos are gonna ask now that they’ve put on a scene but Harry’s hoping he’ll forgive him.

Harry used to be asked what his biggest dream was. During interviews, it was easy to lie, no, to omit. _I’m living my biggest dream_ , he would say, and it was only half of the truth. When somebody close asked him that, it was usually because they knew, deep down, Harry still had a lot more he’d like to accomplish. When he was still in the closet, his biggest dream was to be papped with Louis walking down a sidewalk, holding hands in a sunny day in Los Angeles or trying to escape the rain in London entering a random pub. His biggest dream was to be able to _live_ his dream freely.

Now Harry’s looking around while Daisy tells him all about the fundraising they were able to do at that prom back in August – the one Harry had promised and donated money – and how she’s excited about the one next week; the winter prom will mark the beginning of the holidays and she’s really excited about Christmas shopping this year, asking Harry all kinds of questions about whether he’ll spend it with them or kidnap Louis to spend it with him. Jay joins the conversation and so does Phoebe, saying that he should totally come even if it were just for Boxing Day. Now Harry’s talking to his extended family about a dream he is finally able to live. Now Harry doesn’t need to lie or hide anymore.

He doesn’t know how the holidays are gonna go, but he’s got a great feeling about them anyway.

 

The party starts to wind down by midnight, having started at seven. Louis thanks everybody once again and blasts loud music on the dance floor. From a distance Harry sees Louis and Niall throwing some crazy dance moves and thinks about joining them, but he catches Louis eyes and the blue eyed guy nods in the general direction of the exit, like he’s suggesting the leave. Harry’s on board with the idea.

They meet by the door and Louis doesn’t say anything, just grabs Harry’s hand and walks quickly till they stop in front of the lift. They ride it in silence and Harry has a feeling they’re not going to go to the parking lot, which proves to be correct when they stop on the offices’ floor.

Once again, Louis leads the way till they make it to his room. Harry doesn’t have time to take in the moment cause as soon as the door closes behind them Louis is pulling him by the lapel of his blazer and trapping himself between the door and Harry’s body.

“I could totally pretend I want to talk in private and have a drink”, Louis starts, fists closed on each side of Harry’s blazer, “but right now I really want make out with you, if that’s okay.”

 

Harry doesn’t seem to need convincing as he kisses Louis hard and with intent, pressing Louis’ back against the door and placing one leg in between his as he feels Louis grab his hair and guide his head in all the directions he wants the kiss to go. Louis is in heaven again, because he’s missed it, he’s missed it so much in the last month that it made it seem like the three years he spent without Harry were easier to deal with.

They weren’t, hell, he knows they weren’t. But the amazing thing about time is that it numbs you. It doesn’t make anything better, as many people like to say, but it numbs you enough that you get used to the pain, you get used to the hole inside of you. Louis had three years to get used to being without Harry and as much as he had felt the world end many times during that period, it was nothing like having him once again and then parting ways, still having to deal with his presence.

            Now he has him, right here. Louis can feel Harry’s tongue working inside of his mouth and he kisses back out of instinct, sucking on it, swirling around like he always has. For a fraction of a second Louis thinks they shouldn’t engage so much, there are still people at the party and he _is_ the host after all, but then Harry’s hands find his ass and squeeze his asscheeks bringing him impossibly closer, and any thought of leaving this room vanishes from Louis’ mind.

Harry bites his lip and pulls away to just stare at him, asking _where do we go next?_ and Louis just pulls him in again, sucking on his bottom lip and circling his hips forward so Harry can see there’s no way they aren’t getting each other off tonight. And Harry seems to agree, because he’s just _so_ hard where he’s pressed up against Louis’ leg that Louis vision is blurred for a moment and he loves Harry so much he needs to voice it.

“God, I love you--- I swear, I-”, Harry bites where his neck meets his shoulder and Louis whimpers feeling his hands rubbing up and down his sides. Harry doesn’t touch his cock and he really _needs_ some attention, “H.”

“What? What d’you want?”

“Sofa, now”, Louis manages to say and unusually lets Harry manhandle him to the couch where he’s never ever had sex.

Harry whispers filthy things in his ear when he places Louis with his back against the armrest and fits himself between his legs, kissing down his neck and collarbones pushing his shirt down so they’re exposed. The shirt will probably be ruined after that, but Louis really doesn’t mind as long as Harry’s hot tongue traces his chest and his teeth nibble from right to left while his hand squeeze Louis’ right thigh not letting it fall from the couch.

            “C’mon, off, off”, Louis manages to say detaching his mouth where he was sucking on Harry’s neck and taking off his blazer.

            Harry complies and gets on his knees between Louis undressing himself, and Louis doesn’t waste any time, doing the same when he pulls his shirt above his head and opens his trousers waiting for Harry to help him out and pull them down—and he does just that, but not before kissing tortuously around his navel and biting hard on his left hipbone.

            Blood’s rushing through Louis’ veins when Harry finally manages to take off his trousers, shoes and socks and things only get harder – metaphorically and _physically_ speaking – when Harry looks hungrily at him, truly in awe, and says as innocently as he can that he’s gonna suck Louis now, moving his hands slowly to his sides to take off Louis’ pants, breathing hotly on his dick once it springs free laying heavy against Louis’ stomach.

            He needs to be touched, and he needs to be touched by Harry, who is teasing and sucking bruises to his inner thighs with hands wandering on Louis’ chest and torso, occasionally squeezing one nipple and making it hard and perky and _Louis is going to explode before Harry gets his mouth on his cock_ , he’s sure of it.

            Harry himself can’t actually believe this is happening again. He looks up and sees Louis panting and feels his nails digging on his shoulders while he continues on teasing him, but not really. Cause out of the many times Harry’s prolonged things just to be a little shit, this isn’t actually one of them. He just wants to enjoy it and take his own time when his teeth grazes over Louis’ skin without biting, and when he finally grabs Louis dick in his hand, stroking it slowly, he needs to go up and kiss him one more time, just for the sake of it.

            “D’you like it, Lou?” He asks in his ear, alternating his speech with sucking a small bruise behind Louis ear, his favorite spot ever, “d’you miss it as much as I did?--- I bet you did, I--- nobody’s you, Lou, I swear”, Harry confesses and Louis is already too much of a mess to respond, just shamelessly moaning with each long loose fucking teasing stroke, “I need to taste you”, he says, “now”.

            Louis only answer is to open his legs further and pulling on Harry’s hair extracting a loud moan of the younger guy, leading his head down again and his hips buck up, cause that’s how much he wants it. Harry whimpers when he feels Louis’ dick slapping his left cheek. _That’s_ how much Louis knows Harry wants it too.

            “Gonna blow you so good, love”, Harry says, holding him down now, breathing over his shaft and looking straight into Louis’ eyes. “And then you’re gonna come for me, aren’t you?” He asks, “and I’m gonna taste you after so long and”, he blows hotly on Louis’ head, making Louis throw his head back trying to keep himself from sounding needier than he already does, “and it’s gonna be perfect”, Harry finishes closing his mouth on Louis head and sucking so hard that Louis screams ridiculously at first, bringing one fist up to his mouth to try and keep from doing that again.

            Harry catches up on it because he uses one of his hands – the one who isn’t keeping Louis hip glued to the couch – to remove Louis’ hand from his mouth and just intertwines their fingers by Louis’ head.

            “You can scream for me, Lou”, he smiles, licking the underside of Louis cock, “you _should_ scream. And then come hard on me--- will you come on me Louis?”, Louis moans again, his eyes shut and his hips bucking up despite Harry’s efforts to keep them down, “talk to me”.

            Talk. Louis can’t fucking _talk_. He’d answer Harry properly if he _could_ , but as it is he just murmurs _fuck_ and—“I will, H, just—” Harry closes his mouth around him again and he’s done for.

            Harry already looks ruined and is still a fucking _god_. His curls are messy and his face is wet with spit and precome and Louis thinks about how much he wants Harry to fuck him, _soon_ , because it’s _way_ overdue. Right now, he focuses on the feeling of his tongue licking the head of his dick in circular motions while covering the rest with one hand, trusting Louis to keep down but knowing he won’t, while he grips Louis other hand so strongly that can only mean one thing: I love you and I’ve missed you and I’m glad we’re here. Louis feels the same.

            He licks the base next and when he feels like he’s given it the right attention, he goes back to the tip, Louis’ favorite as he knows it, taking it into his mouth again and hollowing his cheeks to make it better, sucking like his life depends on it. Harry’s always been splendid at giving head, always loved doing it too, making it so, so perfect for Louis and his hips snap once again, filling Harry’s mouth – _Harry_ , who doesn’t stop him, who doesn’t gag, who just looks up and smirks allowing Louis to finally fuck his mouth.

            And he does. He dugs his feet as leverage: one on the couch and the other on the floor and holds on Harry’s hair for dear life. Harry fucking _moans_ around him and pulls off for a second, squeezing his own dick and stroking it quickly, messily, _so so_ close to his own orgasm just by the noises Louis is making and the way his fingers tangle in his hair.

            “Don’t-don’t stop now, Hazz”, Louis pants and Harry just nods, opening his mouth again and allowing Louis to move inside. From now on they go back to communicating with actions rather than words because they’re too close to tease anymore.

            Harry quirks an eyebrow as if he’s daring Louis to fuck harder and he looks _wrecked_ , beautifully _wrecked_ and Louis takes up on the challenge, going faster and deeper, crying out when he hits the back of his throat. It’s messy and wet and when Harry’s hands leave Louis’s hand and his own cock to go up Louis’ nipples, he screams his name once more, thankful for the emptiness of the whole floor. There’s no way he’d be able to keep it down, that’s just what Harry does to him.

            Harry takes him perfectly, his moans around Louis dick making his eyes roll to the back of his head and he doesn’t stop bobbing his head up and down, swallowing everything Louis’ gives him. He can feel Louis is close by the way his thrusts slow down and he pushes him back again, holding on his hips and going back to the tip of his cock, lapping his tongue around it like it’s a strawberry popsicle, only better.

            “C’mon, Lou”, he asks, “come for me now”, he says and Louis opens his eyes, fringe wet stuck on his forehead, “I really wanna taste you”, he says.

            Louis is going to pass out. Harry’s asking for come like he’s asking for a chocolate bar or cotton candy and _how could I ever live without this_? Louis questions himself while Harry wraps one hand around his own shaft and swirls his tongue once again around Louis’ dick, and then on the sides, pushing it against his stomach and working on the underside and Louis has long given up on keeping loud moans in.

            “I wanna taste you--- come for me”, he repeats and as Louis looks at him, Harry strokes the both of them at the same pace, just breathing hotly over Louis cock, and smiling filthily. That’s what brings him over the edge, spurting white ropes of come on his own stomach and Harry’s open mouth, tongue sinfully out, blissed out expression as he comes too, frowning his eyebrows and closing his eyes, more beautiful than ever. It’s a sight Louis has never forgotten, but which the memory of holds nothing on the scene itself.

 

            “You have no idea of how much I’ve missed this”, Harry speaks after a while, still between his legs, head rested on Louis’ stomach, voice so hoarse Louis could get hard again, cheeks and eyelids dirty with come.

            “Oh, I have”, Louis says, trying and failing to even his breaths.

            Harry gives him a private smile and gets up walking towards the mini fridge next to Louis’ desk and Louis scoots further into the couch, propping himself in one elbow to just ogle Harry’s naked body walking around this office. Right there is an image that never in his wildest dreams had he thought of being real, but here they are.

            Harry comes back and licks Louis belly clean of come before drinking the water and lying by his side and feels Louis breathing heavily while he does so, accepting the other bottle of water right after Harry finishes up.

            “I love you”, Harry tells him again in case that hadn’t been clear before. He needs Louis to know that even though he needed time, even though he still might need a few more freak outs, he _loves_ him, and that’s not going to change, ever. “I love you so much, Lou.” He nuzzles into his neck and stays there, fingers tracing random patterns on Louis’ torso while Louis hand goes up and down his back, the other one eventually catching Harry’s hand and intertwining their fingers on his chest.

            “The heart’s a funny thing, isn’t it?” Louis speaks and Harry looks up at him, but Louis just kisses his forehead and goes back to staring at the ceiling that is only illuminated by the lampposts outside and the moonlight.

            “How so?”

            “I love you”, Louis states simply. “And you love me despite everything and I… I _love_ you, Harry”, he says again looking into his eyes. “And it’s not—it’s not a normal love it’s- recently I found out that I can’t even name how I feel with you, what we had back then and what--- what we can have now, I mean. Do normal people get to _feel_ that in their lives? Is everyone this lucky?” He smiles like he doesn’t quite understand.

            Harry can’t help but smile too. Because he understands – or better, he doesn’t either.

            “I don’t know”, he replies truthfully. “I know that I just felt so empty without you”, he says, “the entire time I was living off of distractions- like, everyone I met, everything I did, it was just a distraction from the fact that I was empty, because I didn’t have you.”

            “You’ve always had me”, Louis says.

            “You know what I mean”, Harry pushes and Louis nods, kissing him square on the mouth, sucking lightly on his bottom lip and separating again. “I was empty but my heart…”

            “Was heavy”, Louis completes and Harry nods. “That’s what’s funny”, Louis explains, “that’s what I was trying to say. Cause I felt empty too. And the emptier my heart got, the heavier it was to carry around.”

 

            They confess a bunch of other things in the dark. Harry tells him about his days alone and Louis tells him how he couldn’t even look in the mirror sometimes. Harry’s heart hurts when he listens to Louis explaining how hard it was to carry on; they’ve already had this conversation, but not as openly. It’s like they’re breaking the last barrier, the one thing left before they can give in completely to the overwhelming love that is hitting them from everywhere.

            Right before they fall asleep, Louis tells him it’s the first time he’s sleeping happy at work, and as much as Harry wants to ask what that means, he lets it slide for another moment, cause he’s light enough himself to close his eyes and drift off into nothingness. Harry and Louis aren’t empty anymore. The world makes sense once again.

 

            When Louis wakes up, Harry’s not there anymore and somehow he does not panic, he just yawns and looks around to find his clothes; without Harry’s body next to his to keep him warm, he’s freezing. He’s just finishing putting on his trousers when Harry enters the room again with two Starbucks paper bags and a playful smile on his face.

            “So, I might’ve been papped leaving the building completely wrecked with a huge purple mark on my neck”, he says and kisses Louis cheek moving to his desk and emptying the bags on the surface. “Figured you’d have tea here, so I just bought some juice and coffee in case you want some.”

            Harry also bought muffins and scones. Louis loves him.

            They both sit on the chairs next to the desk and Louis can’t start eating without kissing him first. So he does, and then remains on Harry’s lap feeling small and cuddly and without a trace of guilt. He wants to stay close. Forever if he can.

            “Apparently people realized we didn’t leave the building yesterday…” He tells Louis and laughs lightly.

            “And there it goes my wish to properly announce to the world you’re mine”, Louis rolls his eyes and then stops a bit, only kind of regretting what he’s just said. “I mean-”

            “It’s fine, Lou”, Harry assures him.

            “Yeah?” Louis asks and Harry nods, smiling one of those _you’re such an idiot_ smiles Louis gives him a lot too. “Will you be my boyfriend again?”

            “I thought that was implied when I kissed you in front of all of our friends and your family and staff.” He rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his orange juice.

            “Was just checking. Boyfriend”, he smiles.

            “Okay”, Harry smiles again and kisses him just for the sake of it. Louis goes with it and food is forgotten for at least ten minutes cause they can’t keep away from each other. Louis’ stomach grumbles, Harry laughs, he finishes his muffin.

 

            They exit the building together, hands intertwined and flashes on their faces. It’s not even ten am yet and Louis has already taken the biggest step of his life: he’s just shown the world the only person he’s ever loved. And there wasn’t a plan behind it like there would have been when they still were in the band. There was no stunt, there was no building up, there was no _“we need to control the narrative”_. There was just him and Harry, exiting 78 Production’s building hand in hand and hailing a cab (cause neither of them drove to the party the night before).

            “New lover, Harry? Were you two shacking up during your 1D years?” One of the paps asks when they’re crossing the street, trying to get to the cabstand. Harry looks at the guy and laughs humorlessly. Louis knows exactly what he’s thinking.  “Smile at the camera, c’mon.” Louis realizes the guy’s recording. Harry’s about to reply, but he has a feeling it won’t be a nice thing, so he interferes.

            “C’mon, H”, Louis nudges his arm, “smile for him”, he says and Harry’s eyes widen comically. “We can finally be the power couple we’ve always been”, Louis says in his ear. “We can pick our fights, yeah?”

            Harry hugs him by the waist and smiles at the guy. Suddenly there are three other flashes around.

            “Okay, boys, that’s enough, isn’t it?” Louis asks loudly and smiles. “I think it’s enough”, he says then and somehow they back off so the two of them can enter the taxi. It’s a successful experience.

           

            They decide to go to the house because Louis’ entire family is there and they need familiarity right now. Still in the car, Louis texts Briana to let her know that in a few minutes pictures of him and Harry will be all over the internet, and tells her she doesn’t need to answer anything anybody asks her, he’ll deal with that, but she just sends him a laughing emoji and a link attached. There’s a low quality youtube video of them kissing yesterday and it already has more than one million views. Louis is surprised to see it was uploaded from the official One Direction Vevo account, which was handed to Liam once the contract was over. (The last video before that one was from their last concert in Sheffield, a performance of Act My Age when the crowd had now idea their break would actually be a break up.)

            He shows it to Harry and he only laughs, saying that they look good. They make plans to read the comments later once they arrive at Louis’ house where at least a dozen of paparazzi are camped. He calls inside and asks Jay to open the front door cause he’s about to exit the car. What even _is_ his life again?

Complete. That’s what it is.

            “Wait a sec---”, Harry asks right before he opens the door, “they’ve already gotten enough sex hair pictures”, and Louis waits while he ties his hair up in a small bun, like in the beginning of Where We Are Tour. He laughs at the thought of remembering the stage of Harry’s hair according to the tour they were on once again.

            “Will you let it grow?” He asks nonchalantly.

            “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Harry smirks.

            “You look like a prince with your curls falling on your shoulders, love.”

            “Well Stella seems to think I’m a Disney _princess_ already”, Harry ponders and smiles. “I’ll let it grow a bit, yeah. Maybe she’ll make me a flower crown next time I see her.”

            “She’d like that”, Louis tells him. “Me too.” He completes tentatively.

            “It’s gonna be okay, Lou”, Harry says and takes his hands. “Ok. We can go.”

            Louis pays the cabby and opens the door, exiting the car first and waiting for Harry. Like many, many times in the past, he tries to shelter Harry from those cruel lenses. But like never before, he doesn’t have to be subtle about it. He hugs him and Harry buries his face on Louis’ neck. And when Jay opens the door and they go inside, the outside noise is replaced by the inside one, when his entire family plus Niall jump around them and hug the shit out of the couple. They’re all ridiculous. Louis loves them to death.

 

-

 

            Harry was nervous. And that was weird because Harry didn’t get nervous much, not meeting people, at least. Alex was holding his hand tightly and Harry was pretty sure it was sweating. That wasn’t how that was supposed to be going, was it? He didn’t think so. But he was already there, dinner was about to be served, people were smiling brightly at him.

            “Hi”, somebody broke the silence. Harry didn’t know the person, but Alex nudged him with his elbow and he decided it was time to move.

            “Hi, I’m Harry”, he reached out to shake the woman’s hand and she did the same. Weren’t her cheeks hurting? She had a _big_ smile on her face. Harry didn’t want to think that it was creepy. She was just extra cheerful.

            “Hannah, I’m Alex’s sister”. Oh. He didn’t know about this one.

            “Cousin”, Alex corrected her. “We grew up together.”

            “Sister”, she then said and Harry smiled like he understood.

            They’d been dating for less than two months. It was Christmas Eve and Alex had decided it’d be the perfect opportunity for Harry to meet his family. The both of them didn’t have work and Harry could still have lunch with his mom the next day. It would’ve been a great idea, if it weren’t for the fact that Christmas Eve meant Louis’ birthday (the third one since Harry had met him that they wouldn’t spend together. He did his best not to cry – it only worked until he went to sleep).

            Alex continued introducing his family and Harry shook hands trying to find equivalents to each Tomlinson he loved.

 

-

 

            “Hazz, babe”, somebody calls him, “hey”, there’s a hand on his hair and a light kiss on his forehead. He wants to open his eyes but he can’t, he’s _so_ sleepy. “Harry”, he knows it’s Louis. He just smiles with his eyes closed and receives a lick on the nose.

            “Grose”, he complains and Louis laughs.

            “You seem to like my tongue in other places though…”

            “Dirty”, he smiles and finally opens his eyes, “what time is it?”

            “We should get going if we’re making it to dinner”, he tells him. “Sorry to wake you, you look so cuddly.”

            “You could always join me”, Harry opens his arms and eyes for the first time. Louis is breathtaking and this is never going to stop amazing him, he thinks – and is glad for it.

 

            The holidays sneaked up on them. After they got back together and dealt with the first days of frenzy, things moved quicker than ever. Harry had tour stuff to handle in different cities of the country until Christmas week and Louis who was already on vacation decided to go to Doncaster for a few days to give them both some time to process that _that_ was their reality now. They were together for the world to see and they couldn’t be happier. Or at least they didn’t know they could yet – the feeling would come with the years ahead.

            So now Harry’s curled up on the couch in the flat cause he was waiting for Louis to finish showering. They’re going to Doncaster to have dinner on Christmas Eve slash Louis’ birthday and the next day they’ll head to Holmes Chapel to have Christmas dinner with Harry’s family. Just like they used to do.

            He really doesn’t want to get up, but birthday man is looking at him with stars in his eyes and excitement all across his face and Harry wants to give him the world, so he gets up and puts on his boots, asking if Louis already has everything he needs. When Louis says “yes, Harold” and rolls his eyes, Harry goes into the room and comes back with Louis’ wallet.

            “Who says I’m gonna need money? I got a millionaire boyfriend…” He smiles not giving in that he forgot one of the most important things.

            “Well your millionaire boyfriend can’t get you fake documents cause he won’t go to jail, so you still need it, love”, Harry smiles and kisses him quickly, moving to press the lift button.

            “Did you ever think we’d end up like this?” Louis asks smiling at him. “Not- like. Not after we’d been together, just… When you were a kid. Did you ever think we’d find each other, have tons of money to spend and--- I don’t know.”

            “You get like that every birthday”, Harry smiles and hugs him once they’re inside the lift going to the parking lot. “You think you don’t deserve everything you have…” He tightens his arm and looks into Louis’ eyes. “You not only deserve it but you’ve earned it, Lou. We did. All of our money, all of our friends and families and fans. We’ve worked hard to get here.”

            “You’re right”, Louis sighs and rests his head on Harry’s chest. “I’m just…” The door opens. “Like. We got to a point where I don’t even know what to give you for Christmas.”

            Harry throws his head back laughing. He’s had the same problem with Louis’ birthday and Christmas present, until he decided on it and said he’d only get it in January – almost killing him with anxiety.

            “You don’t need to get me anything”, Harry says getting into the driver’s seat.

            “I’ll think of something eventually.”

            “You can give me orgasms”, Harry suggests.

            “Oh, what was that that happened twice this morning then?” He asks and Harry laughs louder, placing his hand on Louis thigh as soon as he takes the car out of the garage and they hit the road.

They put on some music and sing with the radio random songs Radio 1 is playing until Nick’s voice comes up and they go silent. It’s his last show and he’s just about to announce it. Harry promised he’d listen to every single word. The only interview Nick is going to do to BBC after that will be next year, the first day of Harry’s tour, and from then on he’ll work solely on his brand. Harry is really, really proud.

 

            Driving to Doncaster is the same as driving to Holmes Chapel: going home. And now, Harry thinks, home isn’t necessarily _one_ place. Home is where you feel like you’re the happiest that is possible. Home is where you’re comfortable, where no one will judge you, where you can find people you care about and who care about you. He thinks he has a few homes and is so lucky for it. LA is home, that isn’t even a question. But London is home too, even if he denied it for a few years. And so are his and Louis’s hometowns.

 _Louis_ himself is home too and Harry tells him that right before they enter Jay’s house, bearing tons of gift bags and carrying stupid smiles on their faces. The long drive’s got nothing on them, because the both of them feel fresh.

 

In the evening, Louis calls Stella to wish her a happy Christmas and _happy chwistimas papa_ is how she answers the phone. Apparently she learned in the past month how to identify when it’s Louis calling by the ringtone Briana set and since she’s a _big pwincess_ now, she wants to answer it by herself. He talks to her and then lets the entire family do the same. At the end, she spots _ARREEEH_ , and no one is more endeared than Jay when Harry takes the phone to talk to him.

“I dreamed about this”, she tells Louis watching Harry pull funny faces to the camera.

“I couldn’t have dreamed this if I tried”, he says truthfully and she just hugs him by the waist.

“Hm- Lou”, Harry calls and gives him the phone with an uncertain smile on his face and walks to the living room. It’s Briana on the screen. Oh fuck.

“I’m sorry, I told her we need to hang up cause we’re heading to mom’s now…” She says looking terrified to have seen Harry and then mouths _is everything okay?_ He eyes Harry who is a bit shaken but still smiling talking to Ernest.

“I think so, I’ll talk to him later, we’re about to have dinner… Merry Christmas, Bri”, Louis says with a kind smile.

“You too”, she replies, “you coming next week, yeah?”

“Yes, of course, see you then.”

He says bye to Stella quickly again and goes to give Harry a reassuring hug. After dinner they talk and Harry isn’t okay with talking to Briana. And he tells Louis he’s probably never going to be okay talking to her, but _that’s fine, cause I don’t need to_.

(He does. Eventually. Talk to her, that is. There will be birthdays and school celebrations that Stella’s gonna make sure Harry attends. Her mom will be there. These days won’t be _great_ , but they’ll get through them together.)

 

-

 

“Thought you’d spend New Year’s with Louis”, Niall says when he sees Harry on the 31st of December.

“He’s in NY with Star, mind if I head to Ireland with ya?” He enters the flat with a bag on his shoulders.

“Course not, mate, but we need to send Louis a picture kissing at midnight”, he cracks up laughing, “ _please_ ”.

“I’ll think about it”, Harry laughs and calls up his family to let them know he’ll spend it with some friends. Gemma and Justin ask if they can tag along and Niall just smiles happily and says he’ll delay his flight so he can go with them. “We could- hm, fly private? I can call someone.”

“Of course you can, posh boy”, Niall rolls his eyes. “Fine by me.”

 

So Harry goes to Ireland. At midnight Niall smacks a kiss on his cheek next to his mouth being the menace he is and takes a selfie to send Louis. His only answer to Niall is a bunch of emojis flipping him off and a green heart at the end. And then he calls Harry to just say that _this is the last year we’re spending New Year’s Eve apart_.

“I’m flying to LA on the third of January, d’you think---” Harry starts asking and then stops, but Louis encourages him to continue. There still are fireworks in the sky; it’s a fifteen minute show. He is impressed. “D’you reckon Briana would let you take Star to LA? To spend some time with us?”

“I--- sure. Really?” Louis asks surprised, as if he can’t believe Harry would suggest that.

“Yeah”, Harry smiles looking at the sky. “I think she needs to see her Christmas present too.”

“Oh. It’s in LA?” Louis asks.

“It is.”

“You’re killing me.”

“I love you.” Harry says. The fireworks are fading away now and there’s a last big red explosion before it’s over.

“I love you too”, Louis says. “Happy New Year, Hazz.”

“Happy New Year, Lou.”

Harry hangs up and hugs Gemma and then Jim. He talks to a few people he knows and goes back to drinking with Niall. They enter 2020 completely wasted but it’s the first time in three years that Harry drinks to celebrate and not to forget.

 

 

He sits at Niall’s terrace in Dublin watching the sunrise and rethinks his entire life. He doesn’t make resolutions, he doesn’t try and prepare himself for the next few months, he doesn’t even feel nervous about the tour that starts in February. He’s just excited.

 

“What are you thinking about, knobhead?” Gemma sits by his side, hugging him. He kisses her forehead.

“Where’s Justin?”

“Sleeping for a bit, we’re heading back to London today. You coming?”

“Yeah”, he says and then... “D’you know those moments in life that are great but don’t last?” He asks suddenly and she nods. “It’s like--- they’re just literally moments, you can only have the memory of them and it’s like--- it never leaves you, it has this whole effect on you that you can’t quite understand…”

She smiles. He continues.

“It’s just--- my whole life has been about moments. Concerts I can never forget, voices and faces and it’s just so overwhelming, Gems”, Harry confesses. “And then I thought, _ok_ , this is what my life’s going to be: happy moments, happy memories. But Lou--- he just. He is constant happiness for me? And maybe, like, the moments are only happy cause he was there too? I don’t know. I’m just glad that my life doesn’t have to be happy because of the memory of some things, anymore. I’m glad and grateful that I can be happy making new memories. That’s what I was thinking about. Does that make sense?” He asks.

“Yes, H”, she hugs him again. “Yes, it does.”

 

-

 

When Louis knocks on Harry’s LA door on the first week of January he is nervous. Stella is smiling so big by his side, though, that he does his best to grin as well, especially because he’s pretty sure there was a pap following him from the hotel to the house.

“Is it Princess Stella outside?” Comes a voice from the inside and Stella squeaks by Louis’ side, gripping his hand and laughing afterwards. Harry opens the door and Louis’ world is complete. He lets go of Stella’s hand so she can run and hug Harry who is already on his knees and waits to get inside cause the way is blocked. “This is the best hug ever”, Harry says and tightens his arms around her.

“Oh yeah?” Louis asks pretending his jealous.

“Papa, we can have two best hugs evah”, she says the last word extra-British because Louis says it like that and she wants to imitate. “Come hug.” So Louis goes. Ok. _Now_ his world is complete.

“See, papa?” Harry asks smiling, “two best hugs ever”, and kisses his forehead, getting up and pulling Stella with him, placing her on his hips. “How did you get here?”

“Hotel car”, Louis says.

“You should’ve brought your stuff”, Harry says, “no way I’m letting you stay at a hotel, c’mon”, he rolls his eyes. Louis gives him the “but I’m with Stella” look. “I _did_ ask for you _both_ to come spend time with _me_.”

“Well, I know, but-”

“Guess it’s time you see your gifts”, Harry sighs and both Louis’ and Stella’s eyes brighten up. “Would you like to see it too, Star?”

“Stella looobes presents, Arry”, she says pointedly and bounces on his lap so Harry lets her go, “c’mon, we go see papa’s and Stella’s presents now” she says. “Please?”

“Let’s go”, Harry nods towards the stairs, so both Louis and Stella follow him. First Harry explains to Stella he’ll show Louis’ gift first, and it’ll be good, cause she can get to know the house. She’s excited because it is _big_. And he has a yard and everything.

“We walked lots to get to door, Arry”, she tells him.

“The hotel car couldn’t enter the gate”, Louis explains and Harry nods, opening what Louis knows for a fact is his bedroom door.

At first he doesn’t see anything. Well, apart from room furniture and everything that is supposed to be there. And then Harry points to the closet and the picture frames and tells Louis to walk around.

Stella asks if she can see the balcony and Harry walks with her to show the view that is to his back garden, the pool and a few mountains for a landscape. She’s in awe, especially because the weather is really really cold but there’s a shy sun that makes everything look more beautiful. Harry is telling her about a day in 2014 that he climbed that mountain with a few friends when Louis walks out of the room and into the balcony.

“You know…” His voice is faltering a bit, “I’ve always wondered what had happened to this shirt”, he says. “I’m quite fond of it.” Harry turns around and sees Louis gripping a white and red shirt that he used a lot during the Take Me Home Tour and then brought back during OTRA. Harry remembers thinking he didn’t look a day older from two years before.

“It does look good on you”, Harry smiles. Stella’s silently watching them without really understanding the exchange.      

“You’ve moved me back in”, Louis says trying not to choke. “All my clothes and all the pictures- it’s--- there’s a blue toothbrush in the bathroom”.

“Welcome home, Lou”, Harry shrugs and Louis hugs and kisses him at the same time.

He probably should’ve thought it better, because his daughter is by his side. And she _understands_ he is not with her mother, she’s even met Briana’s boyfriend (so has Louis, by the way). But does she understand Louis and Harry’s relationship? Louis doesn’t know.

Now might be a good time to explain, he supposes.

“Oh”, Harry says to his lips and opens his eyes, pecking him on the mouth once again and separating them.

Stella’s looking and Louis can’t read her expression, so he gets on his knees to be leveled with her. Harry sits on a cushioned chair on the corner, next to them.

“Baby, I’m sorry”, Louis starts, “I should’ve warned you”, he smiles and so does Harry.

“Sorry for what papa?” She asks and frowns her little eyebrows.

“I kissed Harry”, he says.

“I know. Yuck”, she makes a disgusted face and then laughs. “Lots of- what the word? Geme? Germs? Auntie Lottie say all the times.”

“Uhn---”

“But I think Arry pwincess like Star, so Arry no germs, yes?” She asks looking straight at Harry, who is smiling so fondly his face might split in two.

“No germs, promise.”

“So otay”, she shrugs.

“But isn’t that weird for you?” Louis asks.

“What weird?”

“That I kissed Harry?”

“Why?” And the thing is: she really seems intrigued by what the hell Louis means when he says that it was weird.

Well, of course _he_ _obviously_ doesn’t think it’s weird. But she is less than four years old…

“Because Harry is a boy.” He states.

“But you lobe him like uncle Lima lobes auntie Soph and they kiss.” She simply answers. “Now Arry, Stella can see her present?”

“Stella can”, Harry laughs getting up and looking at Louis like he’s saying ‘ _you coming or what?’_.

Louis gets up and takes Stella with him, placing her on his hip and following Harry around the house.

“Why aren’t you, I don’t know, astonished?” Louis asks him in the corridor.

“Star’s always known, Louis”, Harry rolls his eyes. “Kids are a lot smarter than they get credit for. Lux’s taught me that.”

“True, I’m just---”

“Happy”, Harry kisses him once again and opens a door that has a “Star” plaque.

Stella’s out of Louis’ lap in a millisecond and hugging Harry’s legs as strongly as she can before saying _TANK YOU ARRY_.

It’s a kid’s room. And it has _a lot_ of princess stuff. And as Louis looks around, he realizes Harry is wrong. Louis isn’t happy. He is… _That_ thing--- that thing that is _so_ beyond happy that not in a million years he would _know_ how to name. And right now he feels like he doesn’t need to.

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all: if you have gotten this far, THANK YOU. You are amazing.  
> Second of all: this IS the last chapter, but there will be an epilogue, so hang in there for just another week or so.  
> Last but not least: I hope I don't let you down.
> 
> This year has been utter shit, but I've found comfort in these words. I owe these (five) boys a whole lot, and now I owe you too.
> 
> All the love, as always, M.  
> Xx

 

_"... You said forever and ever."_

 

 

Out of the many things Louis imagined to be doing in January, waking up to Harry’s pancakes wasn’t one of them. Of course he’d dream and do his best not to wake up on those nights, but to actually _imagine_ that it would be _possible…_ No, it had seemed too much. Yet, there’s a soft hand on his hair and plush lips on his, kissing lightly and pulling back to whisper _wake up, Lou_.

            “Is he up?” Louis hears another voice; his little girl’s voice.

            “I think he is and he’s playing us, Star”, Harry says and Louis can hear the smile in his voice. It’s insane how good he feels.

            “Can I?” She asks and Harry says _yes_ , and out of nowhere there’s sunlight on his face. She must’ve opened the curtains. Louis still doesn’t want to open his eyes. Not because he feels like it’s a dream and it’s going to end, he _knows_ this is happening, but because this is one of those sensations that he wants to remember forever, so he just tries to memorize the smell and the voices and the way his head is dizzy and his body is warm and light. “Papaaaa”, Stella complains, “Gonna be cold”.

            “Yes, Loueeeh”, Harry imitates her voice and she giggles. “C’mon, love”, he nudges his shoulder and Louis finally gives in, opening his eyes to a brand new life.

            “Good morning, loves of my life”, Louis says in a ridiculous voice and the both of them laugh – but know it’s completely true.

            “Finally”, Harry says, “your daughter worked pretty hard on this pancakes, you know?”

            “You did?” Louis sits up and opens his arms so Stella can hug him. She’s in the middle of Harry’s sheets, wearing the cutest pajamas and _God, is this really my life now?_

            “I helped”, she says and kisses his cheek, “Arry says it good.”

            “Hey, remember what I told you after _it_?” Harry asks.

            “Oh, yea-yeah”, she smiles brightly, “Arry says _it’s_ good”, she finishes proudly.

            “Already grammar-freaking my daughter, Arry?” Louis rolls his eyes and reaches out so Harry comes closer.

            “Hm-sorry?” He seems a bit hesitant. “I just--”

            “I’m kidding”, Louis quickly interjects. “So, what have I done to get breakfast in bed?” He asks as soon as Harry places the tray in front of him and Stella positions herself by his side, drinking what looks like juice, but he isn’t sure.

Later he finds out it’s one of _Harry’s_ juices, and she’ll drink it for a long time, just so she can have his princess hair. _Arry says healthy eating makes princess hair_ , she explains a few months later when Louis is curious enough to ask why she likes it so much.

            “One, you _are_ the bestest papa evah”, she says, “two, we are dizzy?”

            “Lazy?” Harry offers.

            “We are lazy”, Star says. Louis laughs cutting his pancake, “twhee, we want to ask one ting—thing?!”

            “Ha, there it is”, he laughs, “what is it that you two want?”

            Stella looks at Harry like she’s asking him to speak for her. Louis finds it endearing how much she trusts him already… But then again he supposes it’s just the effect Harry has on people. He remembers thinking he’d go to war with and for that boy after knowing him for only a month. Back then he’d thought it was a reckless thought of an eighteen year old who was in love and didn’t know better. Now he sees it _was/is_ reckless and he _was/is_ in love… But it’s still true, and he knows better.

            “We thought we could go to Disney?” Harry says and—“Listen”, he starts before Louis complains. “I know you went to a park in Europe a couple of months ago, but it was _one day_ , Louis. And I wasn’t there.” Harry finishes.

            “And you said Arry can go next time”, Stella bargains. “Next time is now, papa.” Louis doesn’t remember if he said Harry would go with them one day, but maybe it was just because he didn’t believe this could actually happen.

            “LA Disney?” Louis asks. Probably not, cause he knows what Harry thinks of LA Disney. _It sucks, Lou_. “Orlando Disney”, he states. “It’s _January_ , it’ll be filled with tourists, we won’t even be able to _walk_ without being asked for pictures.”

            “I’m not bothered by pictures”, Harry speaks, “are you bothered by pictures, Star?”

            “Star looobes pictures”, she smiles and hugs Harry from behind, putting her small arms around his neck and her legs around his torso like a baby monkey. “Please, papa?”

            Louis eats three more pieces of pancakes, leaving both _children_ upset and waiting for a response. Finally they get bored and start making the bed around Louis. They talk lightly and for what Louis can tell she woke up pretty early and went to wake Harry. They made her bed together and went down to watch cartoons and eat, cause they didn’t want to wake him up just yet.

            Stella loves to be useful and helps Harry fold the sheets and blankets, putting them inside the closet and coming back to sit on the bed, only waiting for Louis to finish so they can cover the mattress with the bedspread. Louis makes a scene of getting out of the bed and holding the tray, and after placing it carelessly on the bedside table, he takes a deep breath, looks at two expectant pairs of eyes and asks:

            “So, when are we going?”

            Harry and Stella jump and high-five right before Harry catches her and swirls in the middle of the room.

            “The end of the week?” Harry asks. “I need to talk to my management so they’ll arrange us security and all that… Star, would you like for us to sleep in the princess hotel?”

            “YES”, she clasps her hands and Louis knows at this moment that those two combined have him wrapped around their fingers.

 

            It’s three days later that they land in Orlando at night. Louis had to call Briana and let her know he’d take Stella to NY right after their trip and she only said “it’s fine, Lou, now let me talk to my girl”. Harry always stays away when he needs to call her and when Stella’s talking to her, but at least he does a great job at not cringing every time she mentions _mama_ to him.

            Harry’s management did great work at providing them security from the airport to the hotel and they’d have three body guards “undercover” at all times in the parks. The Peter guy from months ago in London is there too and Louis figures out pretty quickly that Harry is actually friends with the guy. He seems nice, so Louis makes an effort to not be ridiculously jealous.

 

            “Did she sleep?” Harry asks with tired eyes when Louis enters the room.

            “Sleeping like a rock”, he replies taking off his shirt and getting under the covers while Harry does the same from the other side. (Even small things like this make Louis feel like the happiest man alive. Maybe he is.)

            They’re in a two bedroom suite and Stella has her own princess bed at this amazing place in Magic Kingdom. She was pretty sleepy when they arrived, so she’s barely seen the colors; Louis gets the feeling that the next day will be full and tiring and still he has no intention of resting right now.

            Being with his daughter is great, but it also means he hasn’t kissed Harry properly in days, especially because by the time they’d go to bed during the week, the both of them would just be too tired. He has a feeling this will repeat itself after tomorrow, so he just wants to enjoy tonight.

            “I feel bad”, Harry huffs, “she’s too small to be alone in that big room.”

            “She’s fine, love”, Louis assures him. “She’s used to that.”

            “I thought you’d said she used to sleep with you…”

            “She did”, he confesses, “but it was more for me than for her”. Harry tilts his head to one side and supports it by one of his hands, hovering over Louis who is flat on his back and asks a timid _how so_? to Louis. “I slept alone for so long that--- when she was there I guess I just wanted someone to hold.”

            “Not to hold you?” Harry asks, his free hand on Louis naked hipbone drawing circles with his thumb.

            “Mostly to hold”, he repeats and doesn’t explain why. But it’s because he used to hold Harry, physically and metaphorically. He’d hold him in bed, he’d spoon him from behind and make sure he felt safe. But he’d also hold him in his heart, in his life. And once he’d realized he had lost it, it felt like he wasn’t good enough to take care of anything. So with Stella he promised it’d be different. He doesn’t want to upset Harry now, though, so he changes the subject. “How are you--- with--- everything? How are you? With us?”

            “I’m good”, Harry says dropping his arm and resting his head on Louis chest, who naturally adjusts himself            to caress his back and tangle their legs. Harry’s hand is still tracing patterns on his torso. “Trying to- like, believe this is my life now.”

            Louis only hums and encourages Harry to continue.

            “I just--- I love you so much, Lou”, he presses the words to Louis chest, like every single one of them is a kiss and Louis’ heart is beating faster already. “And I never, _never_ thought we’d be able to be like this again and I- for a second there I thought I wouldn’t be able to- like, be completely okay with Star? And I got _so_ scared.” Louis tightens his arm around Harry’s frame. He got scared too. “I didn’t know what to do, I. I was really scared.” And despite everything, his voice is serene. “But I managed it, cause I guess I realized we’d be curled up in a Disney bed one day with your daughter sleeping next door and I would love her just as much as I love you.”

            “You- you _love_ her?” Louis chokes out.

            “I-”, Harry looks at him, “I think I do.”

            So Louis kisses him, because he doesn’t know how else to thank Harry for everything and the only way he finds to express his feelings is by the way his tongue asks permission into Harry’s mouth and his arms raise to his neck. He thanks him by tugging on Harry’s leg and making the man straddle him and bucking his hips up so they’re more connected. He thanks him pulling firmly on his hair and guiding Harry’s head to one side so he can suck on his neck, tasting his skin like it’s his favorite flavor in the world. It must be.

            Louis doesn’t know how to _say_ things. He doesn’t know how to voice how much he appreciates life now because he’s got green eyes and curly hair back, and he tries his best to spell it out when his fingers run through Harry’s body, when he makes small noises and when he asks in a low voice for Harry to fuck him. And Harry argues that there’s a kid in the other room, but Louis guarantees she won’t wake up and kisses him again, just so he’s convinced.

            With a hand on Louis’ mouth and the other gripping tightly on his right thigh, Harry enters him slowly but surely, whispering how much he loves him, how happy he is that they’re right here, right now. And if Louis cries only a bit, so overwhelmed he is, then it’s nobody business but his and Harry’s.

 

            Disney is hell, as expected, but he knows they’ll have fun despite everything. Too many tourists from everywhere in the world and so many lines that Louis feels like a forty year old grumpy dad until Harry says they’ve got passes for all of the rides.

            Stella took a liking for one of the body guards as well – _who doesn’t she like?_ – and even agrees to stay with one of them while Louis convinces Harry to go on a rollercoaster with him. They scream and take a ridiculous picture, and Louis already knows this one will be on his desk at 78 Productions.

            They visit four parks in five days and of course Harry and Stella would love even the most boring one and Louis’ least favorite: Animal Kingdom. Apparently, the _best_ part of the park is going on adventures and finding things in the mud. Honestly.

            “Thought you were too posh for this, babe”, Louis mocks Harry when he sees Harry’s jean shorts are brown. His own daughter has dirt on her _nose_ and hair. Great.

            “Never too posh to have fun”, Harry says and kisses his cheek.

            “We won, papa, look!” she shows him her badge and he smiles brightly, taking a picture of her to upload on Instagram later.

           

            It’s almost midnight and they’re in Magic Kingdom – the one that was left for last – when Louis realizes his wish has come true. The day he was in Europe, he imagined exactly what is happening right now. He’s just come out of the family restroom with Stella cause she was all sticky because of the cotton candy and as soon as Harry saw them, he asked one of the body guards to hold the gift bags (with tons of stuff for Star, but also for Louis’ siblings) so he could put Stella on his shoulders.

            And when the night show finally starts, Louis isn’t paying attention to Peter Pan flying from the castle to God knows where or the images reflected on Cinderella’s castle. He is focusing on Harry and Stella while _a dream is a wish your heart makes_ plays in the background. When the fireworks start and she gets scared, she jumps to Louis arms, and Harry envelops them both in a hug looking at the sky.

            _We made it_ , Louis thinks.

 

-

 

            A week before Harry’s birthday, Anne calls Louis to organize a surprise party. The both of them picked up where they left off and their friendship is unfazed – they’ve even set up a date for Louis to bring Stella to Holmes Chapel, and although Louis is a tiny bit scared, he trusts her and Robin (and Gemma) with everything he’s got.

            “Can we do it at your house?” She asks over the phone. “Like, during the day or something? Cause then you guys can go out at night and do the things you want to do, like clubbing, I don’t know…”

            “Of course, he won’t suspect a thing, I’ll- hm, take him out on Friday night and we can spend the night in the flat so the next day we just leave there once you give me the green light.”

            “But d’you think he’ll stay in until lunch time on his birthday? He already said he wanted me to go to London to have breakfast with him, but if I’m organizing the party then---” She speaks a thousand words per second. Gemma got it after her, Harry’s the opposite.  

            “I can- hm, convince him?” He offers and Zayn’s eyeing him suspiciously from the other couch. They’re making the final arrangements for his tour that starts in Asia a week after Harry’s own starts in Europe and Louis stopped the meeting to talk about his boyfriend; of course Zayn understands.

            “Oh, okay, well, I, hm, don’t need to know. Just keep him there.”

            Louis laughs loud and happy and, “of course, Anne”.

            Harry’s still staying at the flat. Truth be told, since they came back from the US, a week ago (so Harry could do the final rehearsals for tour), Harry’s slept twice at the house and Louis stayed at the flat the other days. Louis thinks he can manage keeping him in for a few hours in the morning, but even if they go out, it wouldn’t be to the house anyway…

           

            “H’s birthday?” Zayn asks as soon as he hangs up.

            “Yeah, Anne’s throwing a surprise lunch party at the house on Saturday. Be there”, he says and Zayn’s about to reply when Liam barges into the room a bit breathless and completely disoriented.

            “Sophia’s in labor”, he says, “need you to drive me, Lou, I don’t think I can--- like. Please”, Louis is up before Liam gets to finish the sentence and goes to his desk to get the car keys.

            “You coming?” Liam asks Zayn. The air is suspended for a few seconds.

            “I-” Zayn starts and then he’s up again. “Of course, mate”, and follows them into the hall while the lift gets to their floor.

            Louis texts Harry who is in a meeting and hopes he’ll see it after. He also sends a text to Niall, Andy and Liam’s mom cause he’s pretty sure Liam isn’t remembering to talk to anyone. Then he starts the car and drives faster than it’s allowed cause apparently they need to get Sophia from home to the hospital, since Liam wouldn’t let her call anybody else for a ride.

            In record time he’s parked in front of their mansion and Zayn jumps to the passenger seat so Liam and his wife and get in the backseat.

            “If you dirty my leather seat, I swear to God, Sophia Smith, I’ll…”

            “SHUT UP AND DRIVE DAMMIT OR YOU WON’T BE THE GODFATHER OF MY CHILD ANYMORE, TOMLINSON, I SWEAR.”

            Louis is already on the road by the time she finishes her sentence.

 

            Liam paces for an hour until he is convinced to sit down and drink some tea. Louis knows how he’s feeling because he’s been there. Zayn’s quiet on his phone, out of tune and out of place and Louis doesn’t know how to focus and help both of his friends, so he is relieved when Harry arrives with donuts for everybody. They all finish eating at the exact time a nurse comes and asks Liam if he’d like to watch the delivery.

            “I-uhn-”

            “You’ll want to see this, mate”, Louis assures him.

            So Liam goes. Louis is pretty sure Harry’s thinking the exact same thing he is, but when Karen arrives, he lets him fill her in on everything and goes to sit by Zayn’s side.

            “You can go home, you know”, Louis says bumping on his shoulder. “Seriously, Z.”

            “He wants me here, Lou. He wants us all here, this is important to him.” Zayn responds without actually meeting Louis’ eyes. He doesn’t even turn his head, keeps staring at the floor.

            “But it’s killing you.”

            “I’ve made it through the wedding just fine.” Zayn points.

            “No, you didn’t. You puked in the bathroom.” Louis remembers.

            “I was drunk.” _Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn._

            “It was right after the ceremony, we hadn’t even had alcohol yet.”

            “Well, I had. A bottle. Or three.”

            “Z”, Louis says. “Go home. Stop torturing yourself.”

            This was an unspoken reality and secret between the two of them, and maybe Harry and Niall were in it two: Zayn loved Liam. Has loved him for forever now. Liam’s never had a clue, cause he’s straight, and Zayn’s one of his best mates and his brother.

And Zayn’s accepted that; _lives_ with that. Louis doesn’t know what to say, so he just hugs him and finally convinces him to go away, saying he’ll make up an excuse when Liam comes out of that room. Slowly Zayn gets up and says goodbye to everyone. Harry hugs him and then hugs Louis.

A while later Liam appears to say that _he’s here, and he’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen_. Louis totally _does not_ cry when he hugs one of his best friends, Harry on the other hand... Ha.

 

-

 

            On the first of February, Louis wakes Harry up with a blowjob and whispers _happy birthday_ in his ear before telling him to sleep again. The second time they wake up, he actually manages to cook breakfast and it isn’t even bad.

            Harry gets calls from Gemma and his mom, saying they’ll see him later (he thinks they’ll all have dinner together) and tears up on the phone. Ed Sheeran calls and so does Nick Grimshaw (all part of the façade, since they’re all seeing him in a few hours). When it’s nearly midday, Louis’ phone rings and he sees Briana’s name on the screen. Turns out _Stella_ asked to call, because she hasn’t forgotten and wanted to be one of the firsts to talk to him.

Louis sees the emotion in Harry’s eyes, because he knows it’s really early in NY and she’s awake to talk to him.

            “You’re on speaker, baby.”

            “What?”

            “You can speak, Harry’s here.”

            “Hi, Star”, Harry says.

            “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HARRY!!!” She says. And she says _Harry_. Oh. “Lots and lots of lobe- lov _vve_ , and happy days and ice cream for me, you and papa.”

            “Thank you, baby, those are the best wishes ever”, Harry coos, his eyes full of love. Louis recognizes it. “You said _H_ arry”, he notices.

            “I pwacticed—bday gift”, she explains.

            “Oh, baby, I love _Arry_ as well”, he says. “Thank you, princess.”

            “Welcome”, she says. “Papa, kiss him for I- for _me_ on the cheek otay? And then you kiss him like you kiss him always because it’s his day.”

            “Lots of kisses. Noted”, Louis smiles.

            He talks to her for a few more minutes and hangs up just in time to read Anne’s text that they’ll be ready in half an hour.

            “Babe”, he calls Harry, “go shower, I’m taking you somewhere.”

            “Where?”

            “It’s a surprise”, Louis says. “But dress nicely. I’ll have to stop at the house to change clothes myself.”

            “You’re taking me on a fancy lunch, Lou?” Harry asks and comes closer; he is very very naked and Louis finds it very very distracting. He needs to focus.

            “It _is_ your birthday, indeed.”

            “I’ll shower”, Harry smiles, “but you’re coming”, and then pulls Louis by the hand to the bathroom. They take more than half an hour to get ready.

 

            It’s a perfect afternoon. All of Harry’s favorite people are there, from childhood friends to Jeff and Glenn who came all the way from Los Angeles, and Louis has never seen the house this full – cause back in the days they had to pick carefully who they invited here – and he finds that he loves it. Maybe he’ll keep throwing parties here so everyone can see this place, how it is filled with amazing memories and so so much love that no one could ever explain.

            Right before five pm they come with the cake and Harry’s endeared when he sees the frosting is light pink, one of his favorite colors to wear nowadays. There are twenty six candles and Louis remembers when there were only seventeen. He feels lucky to be here now. Harry blows them all and offers the first pieces of cake to his mom and to Louis’ mom.

 

            “D’you wanna know what my birthday wish was?” Harry asks in Louis’ ear when most of the guests have already gone home and only their family is there.

            “If you tell me it won’t come true, will it?” Louis turns to look at him.

            “But what if you’re the person who can make it come true?” Harry asks and kisses his cheek, pulling him closer.

            “What was your birthday wish, Hazz?” He smiles and brushes the hair out of Harry’s face. It’s long again. He loves it.

            “I wanna move back in”, he says, kissing the tip of Louis nose and then his mouth, “I want this house to be ours again.”

 

            There’s not dinner out and no clubbing. They spend the rest of Harry’s birthday and the entire Sunday moving Harry back into the house, leaving only a few clothes at the flat. On Thursday Harry starts the tour, but whenever he comes back, he comes back to Louis.

 

 

-

 

            On the first day Harry is a nerve-wreck. The show is in Manchester which is good, because Louis can be there. It’s actually perfect that he’s there, because right before he goes on stage, when Louis is already on his seat, someone from Harry’s crew comes and asks him to run backstage, cause apparently “Harry isn’t moving”.

            In one second Louis is thrown back to their first concerts in which Harry would freak out before a performance and in the other he’s banging on his dressing room door.

            “Love, let me in, please.”

            “Lou?”

            “It’s me, Hazz, just open the door”, Louis asks one more time. Harry does it quickly and pulls him in a tight hug. “Shhh, just breathe.”

            “I can’t do it, Lou- not on my own”, he says hurriedly, “not with this many people out there, I’m-”

            “Nervous, I know, but hey--- look at me, yeah?!” He takes Harry’s head in his hands and forces him to look down. “You are perfect, Harry. _Perfect_. Everyone is waiting to see you, cause they miss you and your ridiculous outfits and twirls…”

            “But I’m alone.”

            “You’re _not”_ , he emphasizes the _not_ because he wants, needs Harry to know that he really, really isn’t. “Your family’s out there, which includes a bunch of Tomlinsons alongside your mom, and Robin and Des. And Gemma and Justin… Can you believe I’m friends with him now? We’re bonding over beer.”

            Harry laughs.

            “It’s gonna be okay, Hazz. Just stomp your golden boots on the floor, sing into that mic like your life depends on it and make me proud, okay?”

            “I can do this?”

            “You can do this”, Louis kisses him. “You’re gonna kill it.”

           

            And he does. There are thousands of people screaming his name in the arena. Louis is so proud and so happy; he’s even smiling by Nick Grimshaw’s side. He feels his heart pounding against his chest while he records short videos to send Stella later, cause she made him promise he wouldn’t forget.

 

            Although the first show is the hardest on Harry, the next ones are tougher for Louis, but only because he can’t be there. In two months, he sees Harry five times for forty-eight hours when he manages to free his weekends. It’s difficult, because Louis’ job now is in one place. He has an office and paper work and meetings to attend. He has a schedule to follow. For the first time, he is the one being “left behind”.

            When he did that for a living, touring, that is, he used to say that the worst part was missing his friends and family, but he imagined it was worse for them, because the were the ones that got stuck in one town. Now he knows it is _actually_ worse for who _stays_ , but it’s… _Manageable_.

            They squeeze a lot of skype sessions in between work hours and sometimes, when Harry’s late for an interview backstage or at the radio station of the city he’s in, he blames Louis, so everyone will know that despite being away they’re very much together.

 

            Harry’s in his last show in London when Louis is in Stella’s birthday in New York. She gets twenty thousand _happy birthdays_ when Harry facetimes them from the O2 Arena in the middle of his concert. She’s the happiest Louis has ever seen. When she blows her candles, the only wish she makes is that Harry’s there the next year just like her mom’s boyfriend is there too. Louis totally doesn’t tear up. Neither does Jay or Charlotte.

They’re a family of saps.

 

            “He’s coming with the tour here, though, isn’t he?” Fizzy asks thanking the waiter after her piece of cake.

            She’s in New York for the weekend for her niece’s birthday, and it’s the first time Louis has seen her since Christmas. Félicité turned out the smartest of them all and gives everything she’s got in her university. She’ll be a hell of a doctor, he’s sure.

            “Yeah, he has a two week break home and then he comes here, and then Canada, I think.” Louis tries to remember. People are talking about a more extended tour for the next year… He wants Harry to have it. He wants him to have it all.

            “H’s big”, she points.

            “That he is”, Louis snorts, not missing the innuendo.

            “Ew”, she slaps him, “I mean, as a singer-- in the world.”

            “Yeah. Always knew he’d be.” And he did. Since day one in the X Factor.

 

-

 

            August marks one year since they saw each other again and Louis tries and convinces Harry to go on a trip with him.

Right after the US tour, in which Louis was almost obligated to take Stella in many, many dates and the Canadian part, Sony told Harry it was about time he started recording a new album, and in the most perfect of the deals, they arranged for him to do it at 78’s.

Louis business has grown. A lot. And so have some of his acts. (After Zayn’s tour in the US, Normani is now a performer on her own two feet, with tour dates set in theaters there for 2021 and some pretty great gigs at the end of this year in England and France.)

So they’ve been working nonstop for a month now and it’s like there have never been any hurt, any pain. There’s just sweet smiles and late nights attending events everywhere in the country.

“Li, tell him we need a break!” Louis barges into Liam’s office pulling Harry by the wrist.

“I need a break”, Liam vents, “honestly, where the fuck is Robert?”

Robert is one of their lawyers. Who is sick. Liam’s losing his fucking mind.

“Leeeyuumm”, Louis walks around his desk and places both hands on his shoulders, massaging him. “Tell him how great it’ll be for us to spend three weeks in South America.”

“It’ll be great for you to spend three weeks in South America”, Liam states. “For _me_ , on the other hand, it’ll be hell.” He points and looks furiously at Louis. “You do know 5SOS has an album to come out in less than two months, right?”

“Yes, and I’m very excited about it”, Louis smiles.

“Menace”, Liam huffs. “Have your mom come and help me during your trip.”

“Will do.”

“Haven’t agreed with it yet”, Harry raises a hand. “We have so much work…”

“Oh, come off of it, you’re going”, Liam rolls his eyes, “and when you come back Sophia and I are dropping Arthur at your place for at least a week so we can go to Monaco.”

“VACATIONSSS!” Louis jumps like a kid. “I’ll go buy our tickets. We’re doing Peru, Argentina and Brazil.”

“One week in Rio!” Harry bargains. He’s had a soft spot for the city since the Where We Are Tour, even if it were complete madness.

“Your wish is my command”, Louis smiles and exists the room.

 

-

 

            “Papa, why are you and Arry brown?” Is the first thing that Stella asks when she sees them in London one week after they return.

            “We were at the beach, baby”, Louis tells her.

            “But it’s cold”, she frowns.

            “We traveled… We went to South America. It’s a place far from here, but it’s very hot there this time of the year.” He explains.

            “And the beaches are _beautiful_ , Star”, Harry tells her, “here, come see the pictures”, he grabs the laptop to open it.

            She’s in awe with everything.

Machu Pichu in Peru and the view from a rock in Rio ( _Pedra do Arpoador_ , Louis recalls) are her favorite. Harry’s made him promise he wouldn’t tell anybody he’d cried while they watched the sunset there, but he can’t help himself and tells Stella. She doesn’t laugh, though, she only says it must have been really, really beautiful, in all of her four year old wisdom.

            “I want to go there”, she says.

            “We’ll take you there someday”, Harry says.

            “Really?” Her eyes light up. It’s amazing to watch.

            Harry and Stella have gotten to a point in their relationship that sometimes Louis feels like he’s invading a private party, cause they can have a little world of their own, and all he can do is watch with a fondness that is exclusively theirs. His two favorite humans.

            “Promise.”

            “Pinky promise?” She shows him her little finger.

            “Pinky promise.” Harry answers.

            There’s a future in their lives that Lois _can_ foresee. And it’s filled with sunny days and ice creams, adventurous trips and nights by the fire.

 

 

-

 

            The night everything fell apart started like any other. Louis was playing FIFA with Ollie in his hotel room when Lou knocked. They were in London and the whole band and crew were staying at a hotel together for the last time. He got up from the sofa and opened it, meeting Louise and his sister, who was carrying what it seemed to be a heavy bag.

            “Already?” He asked.

            “Yeah, everyone’s getting ready”, Lottie let him know. Lou only talked to him when it was necessary or when she was in a really unusual good mood.

Once, when she’d been very drunk somewhere in Ireland, she’d told him that every time they laughed together felt like she was betraying Harry, and she needed to take care of him. Louis respected that, but he also knew he’d miss her and Lux a whole lot after that night.

            Oh, Lux. Louis had been one of the first people to hold her; he’d take care of her and pull funny faces just to make her smile. Up until that second he hadn’t thought about what it’d be like when they were one year into the break up and Lux knew new words and had new friends he’d never get to know about.

Jesus, what was he going to do?

 

            Ollie opened a mini bottle of vodka and pressed play on the game again after acknowledging the girls presences and Louis went to the bathroom to sit on a stool, cause Lou had said she’d cut his hair – for the last time. Everything was happening for the last time.

            It was One Direction’s wrap up party. He didn’t know how to feel – well, he didn’t want to feel, or he’d break------ again. Of course he’d been to many wrap up parties before. Albums, tours, music videos… But he’d never thought about the day things would actually be over. Not even when they signed contracts in LA he was this shocked. _It was One Direction’s wrap up party_. It was the last day he’d be in a band with his best friends – even if they were a bit shaken. It was the last day he’d get to hang out with the crew people… Some of them knew him since 2010. It was the last fucking day.

 

            “Are we going for a quiff?” Lou asked. He hadn’t even realized she was done cutting his hair.

            “Whatever you think’s good…”

            “We’re going for a quiff”, Lottie responded for him. “Close your eyes, Lou, I’ll start on your make up”, his sister told him and he did so, trying his best not to think about how difficult everything was going to be.

 

            At eight thirty Simon arrived at the venue. If there were one thing Louis was happy about this break up was not being under his wing again. Or Modest’s. He couldn’t wait to refute every dirt The Sun wrote about him in the future and to slaughter Dan Wootton in every tweet he got the chance. After so many years of being a puppet, the prospect of being free was the only thing he was hanging on to.

            There was music and good food. And at eleven pm Niall got there, wasted out of his mind, saying he had had to drink himself into coming, because he hadn’t been sure he was ready to face those people knowing it’d be the last time they were a team. And Louis would’ve hugged him and said he felt the same, but he was more concerned about the fact that Harry wasn’t with him.

            “Did you come by yourself?” Louis asked going for nonchalance and completely failing at it, of course.

            “He wasn’t with me, if that’s what you’re asking. Haven’t seen Hazza in a couple of weeks”, Niall said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go say hi to Paul. Or goodbye.” Fuck.

            Louis had seen Paul earlier.

            He hadn’t been there for the last few years of the band due to personal issues, but they’d never truly lost contact. The “new” guy was nice, and he tried to bond with them, Harry especially always tried to make him part of the squad; but it never really worked.

Paul was the one who’d return drunk Louis to Harry after mad Halloween parties and wouldn’t even scold them for sharing white paint in their bodies the next day. Paul would listen to Louis’ rants and wouldn’t even complain. Paul had been a father to him and seeing him after everything made him feel kind of ashamed. So he had hugged him, said he missed him, and gone to the bar to ask for another shot of vodka.

            “Keep them coming”, he warned the bar tender.

           

            Everyone was always asking about the baby. How excited he was, what her name would be, if he’d figured out in which country she’d be born, if he were dating Briana now. Louis felt like running away. Not from the baby, just from the… Attention. He didn’t know how to answer any of those questions not even to himself.

            Truth was Louis was starting to get used to the idea of being a father. He was even… _Buzzing_. He was just still trying to figure out how to be happy without Harry. It wouldn’t make sense to anyone else if he explained, but Louis was split. He _wanted_ to be happy about his child. And he wanted to be happy about being a father. But he also felt like if he felt that happiness… He’d be cheating on life, cause he didn’t _deserve_ to be happy for anything, not after destroying someone else.

 

            “Hey, Lou”, Josh came to talk to him, “they’re calling you on stage…”  There was a stage…? “Si’s giving a speech.”

            “Oh, and I wouldn’t want to miss it for the world…” He rolled his eyes.

            “I don’t know how you’re eyeballs are still in place, honestly… How haven’t they gone to the back of your head?” Josh laughed.

            “It’s a mastered skill”, Louis winked and drank another shot. “Let’s rip the Band-Aid, shall we?” He said and walked past him, locating Liam and Niall already by the small stage there.

            That scene was so damn wrong.

Where the hell was Zayn? He was supposed to be there. He’d been in that band for four years and a half. He had been invited.

_And where the fuck was Harry?_

            “One minute, Simon, he’s pulling over”, Liam said in a hushed tone. It was five to midnight. Louis hoped it’d be Harry, but he knew it was Zayn.

 

            There was a speech. Simon started it telling their story, saying how glad he was for them, how they had lasted more than people had believed, how they had been no ordinary boy band. Then he passed it to Zayn, who murmured a few thank yous but didn’t go any further, excusing himself out of the stage as soon as he finished, hugging the guys briefly. Louis could tell he was _so_ uncomfortable to be there, and he kind of understood, and was glad when he didn’t leave the place but made his way to a table.

            Niall thanked the fans and talked about them for quite a while; Louis was emotional and so was Liam; Niall talked a bit about their journey and then started crying. Louis hugged him and let Liam continue; Liam thanked the crew, and it was… Okay. When he started thanking the boys, though… “My boys”, how he said it, Louis completely lost it. Cause… Where was Harry? _HE SHOULD BE HERE_ , the thought exasperated.

 

            It didn’t matter that they were apart and it didn’t matter that their relationship had ended, what mattered was that _he. Should. Be. There._ What was he _thinking_ when he decided he wouldn’t show up? But oh. Maybe he was late too?! Maybe he’d gotten stuck in traffic, maybe…

            Louis was out of the stage before he could think. He said he’d be back in a second but he never did.

            He dialed Harry’s number and it took him four rings to pick it up.

            “What?” Harry sounded drunk.

            _Was anyone sober?_ Apparently not.

            “Where are you?” Louis hissed angrily.

            “Home.”

            “Which one?” He asked kind of afraid. He wasn’t in _their_ home that was for sure. Had he gone to Holmes Chapel?

            “Los Angeles. Told you I wasn’t gonna go to London anymore.”

            “What?” Louis was shocked. “Our…  Our wrap up party is… Happening.”

            “I know”, Harry said and there was his humorless laugh to his tone, the one Louis was already familiar with. The one he hated, the one that ripped him apart. “How’s it going?”

            “Harry…” He started. “Why didn’t you come?” Harry laughed louder, and it sounded like broken glass.

            “Because I love you.”

            Oh.

            “Oh”, he said. “Hazz, we could…” _Talk. Work this out. I could make it up to you. Please let me make it up to you. Please let me make you happy. Please let’s go back in time. Please, Hazz, please._

He never got to say any of that.

            “I love you, Louis”, Harry repeated harshly. “But I’m done with you.” And hang up. And as the phone went silent, so went everything else.

Louis’ throat dried up and he let his knees give up, falling in the backyard of the venue alone, and cold and knowing that _that_ was that. If he had any thread of hope up until then, that was the day he lost it completely.

 

-

 

            The morning everything’s built up again also starts like any other. Louis doesn’t even believe he gets to say this now, but feeling curls tickling his cheeks is actually routine for him again.

            There’s a strong light coming from the window cause they forgot to close the curtains and Louis knows it must be really cold outside cause there seems to be snowing already. He kind of likes it. Maybe when they get up Louis can convince Harry to make a snowman with him, especially if he says Ernest and Doris are coming to spend the weekend so Jay and Dan can go on a short trip just the two of them.

            He detangles his legs from Harry’s and positions himself on his side, looking at him and smiling like a fool. 2020 has been the best year of his life and now that they’ve gotten to the end of it he can barely believe how many things have happened. He thought that no year would be _better_ than the year he met Harry. He was set on the idea that 2010 would always be his favorite. But now that he gets to look over Harry’s shoulder and see their picture with Stella in his bedside table, he realizes that maybe his favorite year is yet to come. This one is _it_ so far.

            Louis doesn’t know why he’s so awake, actually, cause it seems to be pretty early. There’s no _life_ noise yet – which is a Harry concept; he only knows the world’s awake when there are cars passing on the street and somebody in the kitchen or if the TV is on. Louis is down with it. So now that there isn’t anything but silence, Louis knows the world, their world, is still asleep. But he kinda likes it.

            There’s peace. There’s his hand under his chin and his free one caressing Harry; light fingers outlining his face, a soft hum from a song they’re trying to finish in his mind. There’s Harry slowly stirring awake, blinking a few times to adjust to the light and there’s this gorgeous man tangling their legs again, pulling Louis closer.

            There’s a sense of completeness when their naked chests connect under the duvet, when Harry doesn’t say a word, but moves one hand to cup Louis’ face, thumb stroking carefully his cheekbone and there’s rightness when he moves his head forward to press his chapped lips to Louis’s. It’s chaste and it still gives him chills right down his spine. He presses closer and lets his hand wander up and down Harry’s arm, moving his lips as slowly as Harry seems to want it.

            They separate and Harry opens his emerald eyes, staring intently at Louis’, like he can’t quite believe how far they’ve gotten. Louis kisses the tip of his nose and smiles, looking at him with the same feeling.

            “Marry me”, Harry whispers softly.

 

 

           The morning everything’s built up again starts with forever.

           

 

 

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I don't think I'll be able to write over the weekend, so the next and last *sobs* update will probably be by the end of next week.)


	20. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And darling we will sing until we die, we'll never waste these tears on fears and cries. And now the world is ours to take and every single move is ours to make."
> 
> Until We Die, Gentle Bones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess a few thank yous are in order, so here it goes:
> 
> First of all, thanks C, for making me create an account on ao3 and post my stuff back in February... March? I don't really remember, and for telling me you'd read anything I put out - even my shopping list.   
> Thanks, Ana, for helping me through hell and making me feel good about this story even when I felt I was writing crap. I owe you a lot, fluffy bun.  
> Thanks Tha, for inspiring the 14 year old me to start writing terrible fics about the Jonas Brothers. I'll never forget lying on our bellies on the bed at 2am to read a new chapter together.
> 
> Last, but not least, thank YOU for reading it all, for putting up with my rambling and for giving me kudos and commenting on the chapters and getting so involved with the characters. 
> 
> See you?! xx

 

 

Louis has a weird dream and stirs awake with a shiver down his spine.

 Maybe it’s because of the crazy events of the week, like Zayn being indicated _again_ for a fucking Grammy or Hollywood still trying to cast Harry for a movie. It is safe to say that things have been crazy for them.

He wakes up to an empty bed and that isn’t something that he’s used to anymore, so he figures Harry must be downstairs cooking breakfast since it’s so early in the morning – the clock shows it’s eight thirty am. And he could complain, and he could say he’d rather sleep again, but the truth is the best thing he’s been doing in these past five years is waking up, because every day just gets impossibly better.

 

In year 1, Harry and Louis were indicated to London LGBTQ+ switchboard.

If Louis were proud of the things he had accomplished up until then, when he got to tell his story to those people and help them, he couldn’t even describe what he felt. _I’m doing something truly important_ , he said during his speech, holding Harry’s hand on stage. After everything they had endured, after hearing for so many years how _wrong_ they were, to assure people that love was the rightest thing of all inspired Louis and made him want to go back in time just to warn his eighteen year old self that things would be okay. Actually, things would be much more than okay.

In year 2, Harry toured the world and when he came back they got married.

It was marvelous.

When they were young boy banders, they had agreed they’d have a small wedding for close friends and family – _an intimate party_ , they had said. But then they went through hell and came back stronger. And Harry thought that _that_ called for a big celebration, so they had a six hundred people party in one of London’s most expensive venues and the city pretty much _stopped_.

(Being the power couple they were, the fans and the media were pretty much _present_ on the street, screaming their names when they made an entrance and talking about it for weeks before and after it happened.)

Amidst that many people, it was still _theirs_ , though, because even after more than ten years, when in a room together, they only had eyes for each other.

In year 3, they moved to LA.

They still had their properties in England, but after Sony bought 40% of 78 Productions, Louis was sort of obligated to open an office in the US – leaving Liam and his mom heading the London one. Harry also felt more comfortable there and it was better for his career anyway. Plus, they’d be much closer to Stella, who had been spending every holiday possible with them.

In year 4, Liam and Sophia had another baby, Zayn married a girl he’d been dating for eight months and Niall decided he’d settle down as soon as he found somebody. He was still… _Living_ , as he’d say it. Louis put together a new boy band and they were promising. People started calling him the new Simon Cowell. Only nicer, kinder, more handsome… _Better_.

Also in year 4, they decided to adopt kids. They could’ve had a surrogate, but after careful consideration they decided that there were too many lonely kids in the world, and if they could take away the pain from some of them, it’d be great.

 

It’s year 5 now and Louis gets up with certain laziness, because being over thirty has done something with his body. He hates it. He’ll never be over 24 mentally and yet his metabolism is already acting all… Adult-ish. It’s weird. He shakes it off as much as he can.

 

Louis goes to Philip’s room first to see how he’s doing, but he’s still sleeping peacefully in his crib. He remembers when he came home, one month old, how they couldn’t sleep at night because they were _so_ scared he’d wake up crying in the middle of the night… Which would be completely _normal_. They were just… Too careful.

He remembers putting his crib in their room in month five cause this way they’d be closer if anything happened. _“It’s your turn”_ , Harry would say when he was really really tired, and even if it weren’t, Louis would get up anyway, just to hold the baby and watch Harry smiling with closed eyes.

Philip’s eleven months now and they’re going crazy planning his first birthday party; it’s gonna be amazing, he’s sure.

He moves to Elizabeth’s room, but he’s not surprised to find it empty. She’s an early riser, just like Harry. She’s been with them for only five and a half months, but Louis cannot think of a life without her anymore. She’s four years old and her parents died on a plane crash one year ago. Harry fell in love with her the second he laid eyes on the girl. So did Louis.

            He doesn’t even check Stella’s room, cause if Harry is up, she is too. _Early yoga is important, papa_.

Louis goes down the stairs picking up toys along the way he is certain Lizzy dropped while Harry gave her a piggyback ride downstairs. He smiles despite himself and smells waffles in the kitchen, but doesn’t see anyone there.

There’s noise coming from the backyard though, and he walks on the grass barefoot to find Stella in the pool splashing water everywhere while Harry tries to convince Lizzy (who is sitting on the edge of the pool with her tiny legs in the water) to eat the last piece of apple.

“Morning, loves”, he says softly, trying not to yawn moving his lips upwards and rubbing his eyes with the sleeves of his oversized jumper… Harry’s jumper.

“Heey, look who’s up”, Harry smiles and looks up, waiting for Louis to kiss him. He bends down and kisses his husband’s mouth and his forehead, murmuring _hi, beautiful_ in his ear, moving to kiss Lizzy’s head and ruffle her brown hair. “Slept okay?”

“Weird dream, no Harry in bed”, he shrugs, “but yeah”, Louis smiles and ruffles Harry’s hair too. “Is my oldest daughter coming to give me a hug or will I have to dive in this pool?”

“Poooool”, she screams from the other side but swims in Louis direction. “Bend down, papa, c’mon”, Stella says supporting her hands on the edge and lifting her body.

When she turned six, they decided it’d be good if she took swimming lessons in the summer, and now she’s the best eight year old swimmer Louis knows. Not that he knows any other, but… Well.

“Morning, Star”, he says and kisses her nose, getting a wet kiss on his cheek. “Did you have breakfast?”

“Course. Fruits and waffles”, she smiles.

“I can make you some, was waiting for you to wake up”, Harry says, “here, up, Liz”, he says pulling Elizabeth’s legs out of the pool and getting her on her feet to clean her mouth.

“Pool now?” She asks.

“I’ll stay with her!” Stella says.

“I’ll stay, you make me my waffles”, Louis smiles and kisses Harry again, taking off his jumper cause the sun’s starting to make him sweat, “come here miss Elizabeth, let’s put on those floats”, he says and pulls her close by her little waist, getting the float from a chair nearby.

“But Star don’t have floats”, she pouts. Harry shouldn’t have taught her how to pout and Louis gives him that look, but he just smiles and goes inside. Louis wasn’t made to resist pouts.

“ _Doesn’t_ ”, he corrects, “she knows how to swim, darling, you don’t. Yet.”

“Teach me.”

“I will”, Louis smiles fondly making an effort not to roll his eyes at his daughter, “but not now, so… Floats”, he opens one waiting for her little arm to go inside.

 

It’s early July and the weather is pleasant in Los Angeles. Harry’s about to start another tour in the US for his third CD and they’re trying to spend as much time together as they can, cause next month Star’s going back to New York, Lizzy starts school and Louis has a fuck ton of meetings to attend regarding the new boy band they’re inserting in the market.

So they’re cuddling on the couch while watching _Love Actually_ for de hundredth on TV, but no one’s really paying attention. Harry has Philip in his arms and is soothing him with a pacifier while singing _Edelweiss_ from The Sound of Music. Stella’s running her fingers through Lizzy’s hair, who has her head on Louis’ lap. Louis is hugging Harry, who has his hair rested on his shoulder. They’re all connected somehow.

“Papa, when can we visit grandma?” Stella asks out of the blue.

“I don’t know, love, I suppose next holiday we can go there if you want.”

“I want. I miss her. And I miss everyone else. I miss London. We barely go there anymore now that you live here”, she shrugs.

            “D’you maybe want to go there next week then? Just for a few days.” Harry looks at them with raised brows and a surprised smile on his face. Louis nods as if he’s asking Harry if that would be okay.

            “It’s actually a great idea”, Harry offers. “Call Jay, tell her we’re going”, he smiles and Stella’s eyes light up. Elizabeth also seems interested, since she hasn’t been there since they adopted and moved her to the US.

            “But you have things to arrange for the tour, love”, Louis remembers, “And I have so much paperwork at the office this week… At least one of us should stay.” Louis reasons.

            “Well, you can take care of my tour business but I cannot take care of your meetings, babe”, his husband smiles at him like he knows what Louis is going to propose next.

            “You can take them then? For a week maybe?”

            “Yes, please!” Stella asks. “Can we go?” She then turns to Harry.

            “You’ll have to talk to your mom”, Harry says and then looks at Louis. Stella’s traveled alone with Harry twice now, and she doesn’t seem to mind one bit when Louis isn’t there. As far as she’s concerned, _curly pwincess arry_ has always been in her life… Which isn’t, by any means, far from the truth.

            “We can call your mom, yeah?” Louis turns to her and brushes her fringe out of her forehead, a habit he picked up along the way.

            “Now?”

            “If you want”, Louis smiles. “Lizzy, can you lend me my phone, please, darling?” He asks carefully and she complains only a bit before giving it to him, moving to Harry’s other side and kissing Philip’s forehead.

            “Dad, m ungry”, she says to Harry.

            “I’ll get you something to eat, just one second yeah, baby?” Harry asks. “Papa will finish his call and take Philip upstairs so we can go to the kitchen.”

            “Tay. Star, my hair”, she smiles and holds her braid out.

            “It looks awesome, who did it?”

            “Youuuu”, she smiles and Stella looks proud. Louis looks at his family and his heart’s so big and full that he almost forgets to say _hey, hi_ to the phone when Briana picks it up.

 

-

 

            Harry arrives in London at midday on Thursday and the weather is surprisingly pleasant, considering it’s England. Whenever he spends too much time in LA he almost forgets his home country lacks a sunny sky to go with his shiny mood.

            Nick meets him at the airport with the car, cause Jay’s still at work at this time and helps him shelter the kids from the paparazzi outside.

            “You could’ve parked in the parking lot”, Harry rolls his eyes getting in the backseat with the kids, holding a sleepy Philip on his hip, feeling terrible cause he had to wake the girls up on the plane.

            “This way’s faster”, Nick replies starting the car. “How are you doing, girls?” He asks smiling to the rearview mirror.

            “Sleepy, uncle Nicky”, Liz replies.

            “Well, dear Lizzy, I’m sorry about that”, Nick sighs and continues, “you can take a nap when you get home”, he finishes blowing her a kiss. “How’s life in LA, Harold?”

            “Good, making the final arrangements for the new tour, missing home already”, he laughs. “How are things at the office?”

            “Great, yeah”, Nick smiles and Harry can see the sparkle in his eyes.

            After Harry’s first tour and Nick’s first store opened in London, things have only improved. Harry _actually_ modeled on his first fashion show and has been leading every campaign ever since, but outside the catwalk now, cause Nick’s got Alex for that… And for a lot more.

            Two years ago Harry walked in on them in Nick’s living room after letting himself in his house. He was as shocked as he was endeared. He laughed, the both of them did too, and Nick told he’d meant to tell Harry eventually. They’d been dating for a couple of months then after spending too much time together in Dubai for a shoot.

            _Well, all it took was for me to get cheated on, date a guy, cheat on this guy with the guy I got cheated on in the first place for you to settle down, Grimmy_ , was what Harry said to Nick that day. The three of them laughed some more. Life went on.

 

            When Nick drops them at home, the first thing Harry does is call Louis to tell him they’re all alive and well. Both Stella and Elizabeth talk to him too and then they change clothes and go to bed, their schedules completely messed up because of the time zones.

            Philip doesn’t sleep though, so Harry stays awake and calls Jay to let her know they’re in London already and expecting her and everyone else to dinner. Well, everyone who is still around.

            After Lou went back to London in 2022, because Lux wanted to live near her dad ( _since we can’t travel with uncle,_ Harry, she’d said) Lottie moved up from Vanity Fair to Vogue and now lives in New York. Fizzy’s still in California studying medicine and they see her a lot. The older twins go to uni (uni! They’re in uni! Harry is old) in Oxford and only Ernest and Doris live with Jay and Dan, who have been in London permanently since 2021.

            His phone’s ringing and Philip seems to like the noise, bouncing on the bed and making Harry laugh so much that he almost forgets to pick it up.

            “Hello, brother”, a loud voice comes from the other side.

            “Hi, Gems, how are you?”

            “Tired as fuck, of course”, Harry can almost see her rolling her eyes.

            She’s got two kids, works eight hours a day and Justin is traveling since the beginning of the month because of work. Plus, Harry _knows_ she’s PMSing cause she sent him a picture of three chocolate bars two days ago. So he doesn’t laugh.

            “I’m sorry, sis”, he offers.

            “It’s fine”, Gemma sighs, “just wanted to let you know that I very much intent for us to drive to Holmes chapel on the weekend. Mum wants to see us, so we could drive together.”

            “Us two and five kids. Should be fun”, he smirks.

            “We can handle it.”

            “And rent a minivan, of course.

            “We can handle it”, she says again. They can, he knows.

            “Yeah, it’ll be fun”, Harry agrees and they talk some more, until Philip requires his undivided attention, screaming “daaaaaa” cause he refuses to learn how to say _dad_. “Gotta go, see you.”

            “Bye, H.” She laughs a little and hangs up.

            “So, mister, whatever shall we do?” Harry asks and tickles him to bed.

            “Paaaaa”, Philip voices. He’s all about first syllables.

            “Yeah, I miss your papa too already”, he smiles kissing the top of his head, “we’re both ridiculous, aren’t we?” Philip smiles like Harry’s just told him a joke and he’s endeared, rolling in bed with the little boy sitting on this tummy. “We are”, Harry says and receives an excited slap on his forehead. He closes his eyes and laughs loudly, taking notes to tell Louis about it later when they’re talking to skype.

 

-

 

            “Can I sleep here today?” Stella asks when they’re about to go home.

            Now that they live in another country, every time they’re in England they have to make the days count. So they’ve covered both grandmothers ( _I’m lucky, I have three!_ Stella said one day), Stan, Liam and Zayn, and now they’re spending the afternoon at Lou’s house – who is very much back with Tom after six years apart. Well, if there’s one thing Harry can understand is trying to run away from fate and failing miserably at it.

            “I can paint her nails”, Lux offers, “light pink, promise”, she competes right after Harry raises a brow.

Lux is thirteen now. THIRTHEEN. And one would think she’d be done with being friends with Stella, who is an eight year old, but she’s just… Protective over her. Maybe Lux is to Stella as Lou has always been to Harry.

            “But I’ll miss you”, Harry pouts.

            “You have Philip and Liz”, she rolls her eyes. “Pleeease.”

            “Stop being a spoilsport, Harold”, Lou slaps his shoulder and smiles at Philip, who is on her hip smiling and pulling her hair, a habit Louis has _taught_ him to act _on Harry_.

 _I do that with dad and he looooves it_ , Louis says in front of the kid whenever they’re together and Philip just laughs loudly – one of Harry’s favorite sounds in the world.

            “Pick you up tomorrow before lunch”, Harry warns her, “our flight is at two pm.”

            “You’re the best”, Lux says and hugs him.

            “Love you”, Stella says and hugs him too.

            “Love you too, Star”, Harry kisses her. “Take care of her, miss Lux.”

            Lux promises, but Harry only lets her go of the hug after she tells him all about boys at her school and if she’s already kissed someone. She waits for Lou to go to the kitchen with Elizabeth, leaving Philip on the carpet, to say that _yes, uncle Harry, he’s so cute_.

            “God, I am old!” He voices.

           

            Life is pretty crazy, if you ask Harry. He shouldn’t be so nostalgic, he _knows_ it. But every time he stops to think about how everyone turned out, he finds himself reminiscing the past.

             

-

 

            “Boys, one more time, you need to get it right”, someone called from the side of the stage. Harry wasn’t even looking at the people anymore; he just wanted to get out of there.

            Their break had already started, but somehow they always found themselves in the same place. It was pretty much obvious that by the end of 2016 the band would be over, so instead of talking about changing managements, they had extended the damn contract with Syco for a few months so they’d record a live session for their fifth and last album.

            The problem was: Harry couldn’t _sing_ some of the songs. He’d always choke in the middle and with Love You Goodbye it was just… Worse. He’d take eighteen live every time over these fucking lyrics.

            “Hazz, focus, c’mon”, Niall asked.

            “I really am trying here, Niall”, Harry replied. “Why do we have to sing this one again? Can’t we replace it with another?”

            “It’s a single. And you’ve already cut If I Could Fly off, Harry”, Liam reminded him.

            Louis sighed far from him, but it was loud enough that he heard. Harry was trying not to pay attention to him, though, so he just nodded and turned to his mic stand again, putting on his best fake smile and signaling to the band.

            They took it from the top three times and it still was shit, which made Harry feel terrible because he knew the song was good. Too good. That was the problem, wasn’t it?

            Somebody’s phone rang and he didn’t need to turn around to know it was Louis. Nobody had time to get impatient, because Louis’ was startled and started to walk around the stage without really going anywhere and _what the fuck?_

“Shit, I GOTTA GO”, Louis screamed and finished drinking the water that was in his hand.

            “What happened, Louis?” Niall asked.

            “Briana’s in labor, I gotta get to the hospital.”

            “C’mon”, Harry voiced before he could even _think_. Everyone looked at him, “c’mon, car keys are in my pocket. Move, Louis!” He called and started running out of the stage, Louis right behind him.

            They left everyone with surprised looks on their faces, but didn’t even have time to think. Harry _wasn’t_ thinking at all. A _baby_ was being born. _Louis’_ baby. And even though he hated everything about the situation, he wasn’t even concerned about it, he just needed to get Louis as fast as possible to the hospital, because _that was it_. Stella was coming.

            “Where to?” Harry asked as soon as they exited the parking lot.

            “Cedars-Sinai Medical Center”, Louis answered quickly. “Know how to get there?” Harry only nodded and stomped on the gas pedal.

            It wasn’t as close as he thought it was, but they made it under thirty minutes and when they got there, Harry should have left Louis alone. _He should have_. He should have just stopped quickly in front of the hospital, let Louis go, wished him good luck and went back to his own house. But there he was, riding the lift with him, who wouldn’t stop breathing erratically.

            They got to the front desk and were directed to where Briana was. Her mother was there with her and Harry didn’t dare to talk to the lady, but he got that she was being prepped for surgery and they’d call Louis to watch it – if he wanted – right before they started.

            But Louis was pacing. And Harry hated handling _pacing Louis_ cause the only way to still him was generally by _kissing_ him and he could not do that, right? Right. So Harry started pacing too.

            Briana’s mother eyed them but didn’t say anything, just continued making calls without really asking Louis why the hell Harry was there. Harry wasn’t even sure the woman knew who he was anyway.

            Eventually someone came to ask for Louis to follow them and _then_ he freaked out.

            “I need to call me mom, shit—I, I forgot to call me mom”, he said, voice loud, so damn nervous. “I didn’t talk to anybody, I---- I forgot. Oh, but Lots. I haven’t called her either, fuck, I… How am I gonna—I need to be in there, right?” He turned to Harry who had stopped walking too.

            His eyes were scared. Louis looked younger than ever and Harry, who was breaking, just really, really wanted to help him.

            “I’ll call them, okay?” He said, stepping closer. “Look at me”, Harry asked and held his hands. “It will be okay. You go watch your daughter being born and I’ll make the calls.”

            “But I---”

            “It’s okay, Lou”, Harry sighed. None of that was _okay_. “I’ll call Jay. And Lots. And everyone else. You just go.”

            “I- thank you”, Louis hugged him. Harry didn’t let himself get lost in Louis’ smell, just stepped back and told him to _go, go_ , because it was time.

 

            Harry made all of the calls. And then tried to listen to some music, but he couldn’t concentrate. More people from Briana’s family arrived but Harry couldn’t _look_ at them. He wasn’t sure _what_ he was still doing there, but something in Louis’ eyes told him that he _needed_ him to be there when he got out and Harry just… He couldn’t get any more broken, could he?

 

            A little over an hour later a sweaty Louis walked towards him. And everyone was expecting him to say something, but his eyes were fixed on Harry, who just stood up and waited for him to get close. _Star’s here_ , he said in a low voice.

 

            That day a Star had been born, or maybe it was a universe.

 

-

 

            They enter the house at eight pm after traveling for eleven hours. The kids are all knackered and Louis – who picked them up at the airport – has Philip on his shoulders, so he walks directly to the little boy’s room.

            It’s one am in their internal clock, and Elizabeth yawns by Harry’s side.

            “D’you want to sleep or eat, my love?” He asks her.

            “Eat.”

            “And you, Star”? He turns to her.

            “Sle—aaaa-sleep”, she says, yawning in the middle of the word.  

            “Follow papa, then. Night”, he kisses her forehead. “Love you.”

            “You too. Thanks for taking me to London”, she kisses him on the cheek and follows Louis, who’s waiting by the stairs for her to go with him.

            Harry makes a quick meal for himself and Lizzy, because he can see Louis has had fast food for dinner if the Burger King boxes on the counter are anything to go by. Some things never change. He’s glad.

            When Louis gets downstairs, he seems pretty tired himself, but still offers to take Elizabeth to bed too so Harry can shower. One week and Harry’s already missed their routine.

            You see, some people are really scared of _having_ a routine. Of waking up at the same time every day and going to sleep after doing the same “ritual”, but not them. Harry and Louis love everything about their lives, and that includes taking turns every night on who reads stories to their kids and who scolds one of them when something happens. (Harry used to have some… Boundaries with Stella in the beginning, but now she’s just a part of them, so he’s completely comfortable with telling her off when it’s needed, but he also defends the hell out of her depending on the occasion.)

 

            He’s already in bed when Louis enters the room and asks him to turn off the lights. Having Louis’ body by his side makes him relax instantly.

            Louis doesn’t say a word after he gets under the covers, just throws one leg on top of Harry’s and half of his torso on his, caressing his hair with one hand, and kissing his forehead, cheeks, nose and finally his mouth, opening it slowly with his tongue, savoring his husband with each drag, each slide.

            “God, I missed you”, Harry says to his lips and resumes to kissing him again, letting out a low whine when Louis knee falls between his thighs and Louis’ chest connects to his.

            “Missed you too”, Louis says, kissing down his jawline and neck, but always going back to his mouth.

            Nothing is rushed. They enjoy their kisses like they’re the last ones, always making the best of it. He runs his fingers lightly up and down Louis’ back and he shivers, letting his head fall on the crook of Harry’s neck, whispering _I love you_ on his ear. Fifteen years have passed, but it still feels like the first time.

            They fall asleep tangled in each other, like every night, for the rest of their lives. In the future, when people ask about them, and people _will_ ask about them, there’s this sentence everyone’s going to use, and they don’t even know it yet. They’ll say that _they loved with a love that was more than love_. And they will be right.

 

-

 

            Harry wakes up at five am, because it’s still ten am for his body. He curses five generations when he can’t go back to sleep and kisses Louis forehead before getting out of bed, making his way to the kitchen cause his throat is dry and he’s in need for some tea.

            He passes by the TV room and hears a soft noise coming from there, so he enters it and some cartoon he can’t recognize is on the screen, and Stella’s yawning watching it.

            “Hey, love”, he says in a low voice. It’s too early for any disturbance. “Couldn’t sleep?” He asks and she only nods. “The first day after a trip like that sucks, doesn’t it?”

            “A bit. I’m happy”, she shrugs.

            “Want some hot milk? Hot chocolate maybe?” Stella isn’t much for tea for Louis’ dislike.

            “Please.”

            “Kay, wait a sec.”

            He goes to the kitchen and fetches himself the tea and hot chocolate for her. He also grabs some cookies and walks back to the TV room, where she’s changed the channel and Aladdin is on.

            They drink and eat in silence, and then he opens his arms for her to lie on his chest, running her fingers up and down his forearm. She traces his anchor tattoo and then looks inquisitively at him, frowning her eyebrows.

            “Papa has a rope.” She states.

            “Yes, Star, he does.” Harry smiles easily. Here it comes.

            She sits up and assesses his body, turning his arms.

            “You have a ship. Papa has a compass.”

            “Yeah”, he can’t help but feeling completely endeared, already knowing where she is going with it.

            “Are there any others…?” She asks smiling.

            “Many”, he sighs smiling. “See this one here?” He points to the inside of his arm and she nods, inspecting the small word next to other doodles. “It was the first word Lou said to me. I was sixteen, he was eighteen.”

            “Wow.” Her eyes widen. She’s impressed.

            “Yeah. And this one…” He points to the rose and laughs. “D’you know the dagger he has?”  Stella nods eagerly, running her fingers on the rose. “When he got it, people went crazy… You see, our fans thought we dated back then, so they were kind of expecting it.”

            “And were you?”

            “We were”, he responds.

            “But then—I. How was I born? If you and papa were in love, and I was born from mama…” She frowns and Harry _so_ didn’t want to be alone for this conversation. It’s too damn early. She’s too damn young.

            “Can we have a raincheck on this subject?”

            “For how long?”

            “A few… Years?” He chuckles and so does she. The best thing about Stella is that she doesn’t press when she sees that someone can’t – or won’t – tell her something. It’s another great thing she got from Louis.

            “Will you tell me more about the tattoos?” She bargains.

            “See this heart?” He points. “Lou has an arrow…” He continues.

            When they cover all of the tattoos, the sun’s rising.

She makes sure to repeat everything after him, because she claims this story is so beautiful, she never wants to forget.

            “And then there are the new ones…” He sighs.

            “The ones you did for me?” She asks and assesses his shoulder, looking for the word _star_ and then the heart he and Louis made with her fingerprints.

            They were in London and her new favorite thing to do was drawing things with her fingers, dipping them in gouache and creating a lot of patterns. She painted a heart on Harry’s shoulder and he wanted to tattoo it, so he just had Louis drive him to Tom’s house and asked him to do it. Louis got jealous and _what was one more tattoo, right_?

            “Yes, these ones.” He answers and she settles back in his arms.

            “Will you have tattoos for Philip and Elizabeth too?”

            “In time yeah… Absolutely”, Harry assures her, kissing the top of her head.

            Stella looks at him and her blue eyes shine.

            “I’m gonna tell them this story one day, dad.”

 

 

**THE END.**

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this really is the end. Wow.   
> At the same time it feels weird to leave these characters, I've just started working on another story and it's great to give life to a new Louis and a new Harry.
> 
> If you're interested, here it is:
> 
> [Young Gods](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5144786/chapters/11842670)
> 
> Hope to see you again.   
> All the love as always <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts?
> 
> Pls don't kill me. I'm hurting too.


End file.
